


Learning How to Forgive

by EagleEye14



Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, funny!Santana, sarcastic!Kurt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-06-19
Updated: 2012-06-21
Packaged: 2017-11-08 02:41:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 24,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/438248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EagleEye14/pseuds/EagleEye14
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kurt Hummel had the perfect life: great house, happy marriage, beautiful child, great job and awesome family. Nothing could bring him down, until he discovered his husband was having an affair. The question now: can he forgive?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

"Daddy, can we stop to get ice cream," Keenan Anderson-Hummel asks.

"Maybe on the way home buddy," Kurt Hummel says.

His unfocused gaze never leaving the window of the car. He eyes scans the houses lining the Lima suburb street, the same houses he once used to drive past when he lived in Lima.

"Maybe grandpa and grandma will have some ice cream," Blaine Anderson says.

Kurt can feel his husband's gaze occasionally shift from the road to him. Kurt fights the urge to turn to Blaine and tell him to quit staring (in a much more aggressive manner, of course,) but they've managed to keep Keenan in the dark. For a five year-old, he is pretty perceptive and they both agreed that their issues shouldn't intrude on their child's innocence.

~(*)~(*)~(*)~(*)~(*)~(*)~(*)~(*)~

Five Weeks Ago

Deep down, he has known that Blaine has been screwing someone else for at least a month. The signs have been there: missed dinners, business trips that have to be extended last minute, and the showers whenever Blaine comes home from the office are pretty strong signs, enough to make anyone suspicious.

At first, Kurt tried to ignore them. Their life wasn't perfect, but it was pretty damn close. Blaine was a lawyer at a mid-sized firm and Kurt taught music at the local school in the city they lived in. They had a beautiful home, thanks to Kurt's decorating skills, filled with love and the laughter of the five year-old they had gone through hell to have. They had been together twelve years, married for eight. Because of this, Kurt ignored the signs, choosing to be numb.

Kurt, however, couldn't ignore the pictures of a half-naked blonde twenty year-old man on his husband's laptop. Suspect, yes, and there may have been a logical answer for the picture…but the dozens of pictures of said blonde wrapped around Blaine kind was a no-brainer. He hadn't gone looking for the pictures, or evidence for that matter. A dead battery and the need for a recipe had been the catalyst for the discovery.

He had called his best friend Mercedes first.

"He is cheating on me," Kurt had said, the words alien on his lips.

Mercedes didn't scream, didn't question how he knew, she didn't even threaten to whoop the white boy's ass. She merely asked how he was holding up. Kurt had kept quiet for a minute before responding.

"A little hungry to be honest," he said.

"Then get your scrawny ass some food," she said, not missing a beat.

Kurt smiled, thankful for his friend's quiet understanding that he had had to say it aloud, if only once.

~(*)~(*)~(*)~(*)~(*)~(*)~(*)~(*)~

Just like when things got too stressful in college, Kurt resorted to stress eating. A constant hunger had taken hold. No matter how much he ate, he couldn't fulfill his hunger, or crack the ice that engulfed him.

Blaine's constant stares had finally gotten to him, and he turned his empty glare at his husband.

Blaine had been more emotional than he had been when the proverbial crap hit the fan. Almost instantly Blaine had started crying, his tears falling, evoking nothing from Kurt.

~(*)~(*)~(*)~(*)~(*)~(*)~(*)~(*)~

Four Weeks Ago

Blaine sat teary-eyed, clear streaks painting his face, across from Kurt. Kurt remained stone-faced, emotionless, a sense of numbness radiating from him.

"It meant nothing, I swear," Blaine choked out, the realization that he might lose Kurt, and Keenan, invading his mind.

Kurt didn't respond. He didn't know how to respond. He hadn't meant to confront Blaine, despite the fact that all he could think about for the last week was the infidelity. They had been at the table, deciding on dinner, Keenan out of the house at a friends, when the words just slipped from his mouth: 'I know you're banging someone.'

"Good to know," Kurt said, staring vacantly at Blaine.

Blaine choked out a sob, not used to seeing his husband so cold. Blaine had tried to deny at first, shocked at the blatant accusation his husband hurled, but his tears (which had come rather quickly) soon gave away the truth.

"It will never happen again," Blaine swore.

"No shit Sherlock. For a lawyer, you would think you would be doing a better job this," Kurt said, looking bored. "How long?"

Blaine stumbled for a minute, swallowing the and insult and trying to get the words out through his tears. He mumbled an answer, which Kurt couldn't hear.

"Speak up," Kurt said, the same emotionless tone coating his words.

"I said three months," Blaine said, his eyes falling to the carpet.

Kurt kept his tone even, cold. He asked question after question, wanting answers but never delving too deep.

"Where did you meet him?"

"At the office."

"How often?"

"Kurt…" Blaine trailed off.

" Don't ask me if I am sure if I want to know the details. I asked how often."

"Once or twice a week." Blaine tried to add more to his answer, but Kurt held his hand up.

"Did you ever meet in this house?"

Blaine looked truly sick at the question.

"God Kurt, I would never. It was meaningless."

"Like our vows," Kurt said, his eyes finally meeting Blaine's.

Blaine trembled and whimpered. He asked where could they go from there.

"I'm thinking a Chinese place, I'm in the mood for sweet and sour chicken," Kurt said, grabbing his coat and walking out the door, leaving his husband's dumbfounded emotional face behind.

~(*)~(*)~(*)~(*)~(*)~(*)~(*)~(*)~

This has turned into the longest car ride of his life. Forty minutes from Toledo, the city where they have lived for the last eight years, used to seem miniscule when it came to visiting the Hummels, but the forty minutes seem like an eternity now. He loves being with his son, and he is excited to see his father, but he feels like being this close to Blaine is a lie. Like pretending that everything is okay is somehow condoning what the raven-hair lawyer did.

Finn will be at the house, with Rachel. Kurt knew they were going to be there, it was Finn who had asked if they were going to make it for Carol's birthday (he really had asked if Kurt and Keenan were coming,) but seeing them for the first time since they found will be awkward.

Blaine would make comments here and there, trying to strike up a conversation, but Kurt's silence shut him down every time.

~(*)~(*)~(*)~(*)~(*)~(*)~(*)~(*)~

One Week Ago

"We're going to Lima for Carol's birthday," Kurt said, not looking up from his magazine.

Blaine looked up from where he was seated on the floor, playing with Keenan.

"Sounds like fun," Blaine offered, praying for an ounce of emotion, which he yet to see since the confrontation.

Blaine had taken a leave of absence from work and spent his time at home, trying to reconnect with his family. Even though he was stationed in the guest bedroom (a few minutes after Kurt returned from dinner, he had explicitly explained that was Blaine's new residence,) Blaine was thankful to still be at home. He had become the doting husband he had once been, buying gifts, cleaning, hoping to catch a glimpse of Kurt's smile.

Kurt wanted to slap him. Sitting there, five feet from him, he wanted to sucker punch him. They had agreed to counseling, even been to one appointment, but the deep-bone chill had yet to leave.

He had called Rachel, knowing that telling her was just like telling Finn. She had a stronger response than Mercedes, which was an understatement considering she had driven from Lima, six months pregnant to boot, to slap Blaine.

Finn had called, threatening to kill Blaine and calling him every name under the sun(maybe it was a little cruel to put it on speaker knowing Blaine was in the other room).

"What do you want to get her," Blaine asked, flinching when Kurt didn't bother to look at him.

"I already got it," Kurt muttered, watching as Keenan, now bored with whatever he and Blaine had been doing, ran from the room.

"When are you going to talk to me again, like we used to," Blaine asked after a moment of staring at Kurt.

"When can you undo what you've done," Kurt said as he left the room.

"We leave at noon on Saturday, be ready," he called over shoulder.

~(*)~(*)~(*)~(*)~(*)~(*)~(*)~(*)~

They pulled up to the Hummel-Hudson house. Finn, Rachel and Burt were standing in front of the house, the two former people having arrived moments before Kurt and his family (could they even be called that anymore?). Finn made his way to towards the car, his gaze alternating between Kurt on the passenger side and Blaine in the driver's seat.

Kurt opened his door and smiled at his brother before turning to let his little hellion out of the backseat.

Keenan jumped from his dad's arms and ran passed his Uncle Finn and straight to his grandfather. Wrapping his little arms around Burt, he immediately latched on. Burt picked his grandson up and headed towards Kurt.

"How you been son," Burt asks, his smile genuine, naïve to the tension between the four people in front of the house.

Blaine looks at him, his face becoming pained. Rachel offers a soft look, sympathy shining in her eyes. Finn glares at Blaine, his fists clenching.

Meeting his dad's eyes, he lies through is teeth, knowing today is about his step mom and not his cheating husband.

"Perfect, never better," Kurt says, the ice in him thickening just a little bit more.


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kurt Hummel had the perfect life: great house, happy marriage, beautiful child, great job and awesome family. Nothing could bring him down, until he discovered his husband was having an affair. The question now: can he forgive?

"So Kurt, what brings you here today?"

When in your marriage counselor's office, and asked this question, a multitude of responses come to mind. It's like a multiple choice question:

A) My husband can't keep his dick in his pants and now it makes me sick to be near him

B) My high school sweetheart, who I married, has totally destroyed my faith in him

C) I've gained ten pounds in six weeks, stress eating

D) We have a son, and I haven't been able to feel anything since I found out, and I don't want this affect him

In Kurt's case, it would be option E: all of the above.

It was his second session with Dr. Marie Smith and the woman, who looked to be his age, had a cheeriness and an aura of complete understanding that seemed to radiate from her.

Kurt wanted to pimp slap her.

Letting Blaine find the counselor probably hadn't been his best idea, in retrospect, but he still felt like a zombie. After Carol Hummel's tension filled birthday (Finn and Rachel shooting Blaine glares the entire time wasn't exactly subtle), Kurt would have agreed to just about anything. He had broached the subject when they had gotten home from the party, and Blaine had immediately offered a name.

Their first session had been awkward. Blaine apologized over and over, avoiding talk of the affair as much as he could. Kurt was thankful in the end. The more Blaine talked, the icier he felt. The session's purpose was to introduce one another and lay out the reason they were there. Marie, which she insisted she be called by her first name, had been neutral, which cracked at Kurt's demeanor just a tad (he was the aggrieved party, after all).

Since then, Blaine had been to see Dr. Smith twice, and this was Kurt's first time. She explained that for now, in the beginning, it is better to meet separately so that everyone can be open and honest with one another. Kurt had wanted to pimp slap her then, too.

"Kurt," Marie prodded.

"I'm here to chill," Kurt said, his voice even, face stoic.

Marie cracked a smile and wrote something down on her pad. Kurt's eyes zoned in on the pad, acknowledging just how cliché the entire experience.

"Blaine told me you had a sense of humor," she said.

"Isn't that dandy," Kurt shot back.

Marie's smile didn't falter but a look of sympathy crossed her face. If there was one thing that Kurt totally hated, it was sympathy. Mercedes, Rachel and Finn had offered nothing but sympathy. It made him feel weak, something that had been foreign to him for a long time.

"What else has my dear husband informed you of," Kurt asked.

"That he loves you very much. That he is sorry. That he is really willing to work towards your forgiveness," Marie said.

Kurt sat there, taking it in for a minute. Out of nowhere, a giggle escaped his lips. Marie's look becomes more scrutinizing, but the encouragement she radiates is still there.

"I'm sorry, this whole things is just so screwed up. I can't believe I am sitting in front of a quack, talking about my marriage. Because my husband cheated," Kurt said, another giggle erupting from his mouth.

"It's perfectly fine Kurt. I've gotten a lot more volatile reactions in this office," she offered.

"Why don't we start off with how things are at home," she continued.

Kurt nodded before he began speaking.

"Awkward. I think he doesn't know how to react around me. We used to laugh, even when he was screwing someone else, we could sit there and laugh. There isn't any laughter anymore," he answered.

Marie nodded before asking him to continue.

"I don't how to act around him. I don't know the protocol for this. He tries to talk to me and I can't find something to say. It's like there is a block there. I go to say something and I can't. It's like my voice is frozen…its like I'm frozen," Kurt said, staring out of the window in her office.

"What does he say to you," she asks.

"Doesn't he tell you things like that in his sessions," Kurt said, trying to deflect the question.

"Blaine tells me a lot of things in his sessions. But that's Blaine. I want to know more about Kurt, how Kurt is doing," Marie said, the faithful smile still there.

"Kurt would prefer it if you stopped referring to Kurt like Kurt isn't there," he said a tad bitingly.

Maries laughed and repeated her question.

"He asks how work is. He tries to bring up memories, asks me is I remember the time we did this or we did that," he said.

"Does it help you to look back on your marriage," she asked.

"Not really. I try to look back and remember, I try to picture things that would bring a smile to my face. Now all I can picture is some blonde twink in a pair of atrocious briefs. Who wears lime green briefs with blue polka dots," Kurt asked.

Marie laughed once again, muttering that his sense of his humor was exactly the way Blaine described it.

"Have you guys talked about him," Marie asked, her tone cautious.

"No. I haven't asked. I think I am afraid to ask him," Kurt admitted.

Marie nodded, and asked him to continue. And continue he did. Like a floodgate, every thought and question from the last two months of his life poured out of his mouth.

"I don't want to know, at least I'm not sure. I know how often it happened, in theory. I haven't asked why. I don't even know if I want to know why. Nothing will make it right, will it? Can it? I can see he is remorseful, he constantly apologizes, but I feel nothing."

"Sometimes, when I am trying to sleep, and he is right next to me, I wonder if they laid together like we do. Did they cuddle? Did they talk? Did they feel something for each other? Did the trick know that Blaine had a family? That's what I can't understand. Blaine said he is from the office. I've been to that office, I know most of the people there. One of my best friends works there. Who knew?"

"How could no one tell me? How can I go forward? Will I ever feel that feeling I used to get when I looked at him," Kurt said, taking a quiet, deep breath.

"Can you describe that feeling for me," Marie asked.

Kurt was quiet for a moment, and then explained that he first felt it in high school, when he saw the boy running down the stairs. When he first heard Blaine sing, everything fell into place.

"His voice, the look in his eyes, it set me on fire. I felt so alive. I felt like nothing in the world could compare to it. It was like that feeling in your stomach you get on a rollercoaster or when you go over a hill really fast. Like your stomach is dropping out of your body, your heart starts racing. It shocks you at first but want it to happen again. And it did happen again. Our first kiss, the day we graduated. I felt it when he proposed, when we got married on the same staircase where we met. When Keenan was born, and when he said daddy and dad. When we moved into our home."

"I'm afraid I will never I get that feeling again. And even more, I am afraid that all of those memories will never be the same," Kurt finished, voice cracking towards the end.

Marie nodded again, and said it was normal that he had all of these questions. There was one question that mattered above all else.

"The real question, Kurt, is do you want to save your marriage," she continued.

Kurt looked down at his hands, and then back up at his therapist. He could feel it, the ice-cracking. He could feel the top layer melt in just the slightest, the evidence pooling in his eyes.

"I don't know," Kurt whispered, emotion filling his voice for the first time in two months.

"That's perfectly fine Kurt. That's what we're here to figure out, together," Maries offered.

Kurt was quiet for a moment, and then spoke in a soft voice.

"I love him. In spite of it all, I love him. I love our family. I love our life together," Kurt said, looking directly into Marie's comforting eyes.

Marie nodded, writing down things on her pad.

"Do you think you can forgive him," Marie asked.

"Right now, no. I don't think I know how," Kurt said.

Marie nodded and her head dropped, but snapped back up when Kurt continued.

"I would like to learn though. That's why I'm here. I want, no, I need to learn how to forgive. I want to, but I need help," Kurt admitted, tears finally making their way down his cheeks.

For the first time, in his therapist's office, in front of a woman he had only met twice, Kurt Hummel broke down and cried. He cried for the state of his marriage. He cried for the trust he had lost in the man that had been there for him for more than a decade. He cried for his son, because someone so little and innocent shouldn't have to pay for the mistakes of his father.

But above else, Kurt Hummel cried for himself. The numbness was slowly falling away and the pain was making its way through out his entire body. And in spite of it, he was thankful.

He could feel. The pain, the anger, the betrayal, even love. It was still there, despite being convinced he was broken, that he would never feel again, he could feel.

Shooting him a sympathetic smile and handing him a tissue, Marie reached over to him and patted his shoulder.

"That I can help with. But you have to understand, going into this process, that there is no guarantee. I can give you tools, I can help you and him understand the problem more, but whether you can forgive him or should forgive him, is up to you," she said.

Kurt returned a smile, even though he was pretty sure snot was running down his face and that his eyes were puffy. He nodded, settling down a bit.

The urge to pimp slap his therapist was gone.

In its place, the urge to run his husband over with a cart was starting to grow.


	3. Chapter Three

"A cart? You want to hit him with a cart? Like a shopping cart," Quinn Evans said as she sat across from one Kurt Hummel-Anderson.

"Yep, a shopping cart," Kurt said, popping the 'p' before taking a sip of his coffee.

"And why do we want to hit him with a cart and not a car," Quinn asked, sitting back in her seat, mimicking Kurt's actions.

"A car would do too much damage. It would also be too tragic. People would feel bad for him, I would be painted the crazy spouse who lost it, would end up in jail, and despite being gay, that is hardly where I want to end up right now," Kurt explained, twirling one of his bangs.

"You've put a lot of thought into this, haven't you," Quinn said, a smile ghosting her lips.

"Since my first solo therapy session last week. Isn't it working wonders," Kurt replied, his trademark smirk appearing.

Quinn let loose a small laugh and let silence envelope the duo. Both Kurt and Quinn worked at Arborwood High School in Toledo, the city in which they, along with their husbands, Blaine and Sam, had attended college. While Kurt was a music and English teacher, Quinn taught history and government. Kurt had stayed in contact with only a few people from high school, and Quinn and he had become close. They both enjoyed each others company, and would spend their planning periods in Kurt's music room, as it reminded them of the memories which they held dear.

"But why a cart," Quinn asked, breaking the silence, a confused pout painting her face.

"There is just something so much more embarrassing about hitting someone with a cart than a car. Think about it, you see someone get hit by a car, you're horrified. You see someone get run over by a shopping cart, you're a completely different horrified," Kurt said, straight-faced.

"Plotting to run your cheating husband over with a shopping cart? I miss everything. Damn kids and their questions," Santana Lopez said from the doorway, causing the two occupants of the room to turn and face her, both smiling at their friends antics.

Santana Lopez had been the only other person from New Directions, aside from Mercedes, that Kurt still talked to. Santana had transferred from the community college in Lima to their school in Toledo during Kurt and Quinn's junior year. Despite past tensions, the three had bonded once again, and when Santana had gotten a job teaching biology at Arborwood they had been ecstatic.

Taking a seat next to her two friends, Santana waved her hand for them to continue.

Quinn rolled her eyes good naturedly before turning to Kurt. "Okay, I get it. Shopping cart tops car. More people would laugh."

"I would laugh either way," Santana interjected, inspecting her flawless nails.

"Thanks San, good to know," Kurt said, sharing a look with Quinn.

"So how is this whole therapy thing going," Santana said, waiving her finger around.

"It's going okay. I have only had two sessions with her, both of which was talking about me and how I feel. And we've had two sessions together, which have been a little awkward," Kurt replied, sighing at the end of his sentence.

"Do you think it is helping," Quinn asked, her smile encouraging.

"Too soon to tell. He has been to see her four times. He is really into this whole therapy thing," Kurt said.

"Cause he knows your friends would whoop that white ass if he wasn't going," Santana said, her face neutral.

"Ignore her," Quinn said, ignoring the look Santana shot her.

Kurt softly laughed at the antics of his best friends, and relaxed into the chair. "She tells me that I need to start being more open about my feelings."

"Do you feel that way," Quinn asked.

"Not particularly. We're talking again, which was hard enough for me to do. Maybe she is right though. Maybe I could be more open with him. She tells us we need to start building the trust again," Kurt said.

"Maybe you could shove a pillow over his face while he sleeps. See if his ass cheats again," Santana said.

"And how would that build trust again," Quinn shot at her.

"Nothing inspires trust like fear," Santana shot back. She then turned to Kurt. "Whisper in his ear that you swear to Lucifer that if he ever plays wanky with anyone but you, you're going to cut it off while you hold the pillow over his face."

"Interesting. Still not seeing how that would inspire trust," Kurt replied, trying to keep his face from breaking into a big smile.

" If you do it right he will trust that you will carry that threat out. He will live in a constant state of fear. Gotta train men like dogs. That's why I like lady town," Santana said.

Kurt and Quinn were quiet for a moment before exchanging looks. After struggling to keep their faces devoid of emotion, they finally busted out laughing. Taking a moment to calm down, Quinn asked Keenan is doing.

Kurt's face immediately darkened. "He knows something is up. Blaine still hasn't gone back to the office yet. He doesn't understand why his dad is at home when he is so used to Blaine coming and going."

"Why is he at home still." asked Santana.

"Not sure. The guy works at the office. Blaine told me he was taking care of the 'problem,' as he put it. He also wanted to be home to work on our marriage."

Quinn studied Kurt's face for a moment. "Are you okay Kurt?"

Kurt looked startled for a moment. Not liking where the conversation was going, he turned towards Santana hoping that she would throw something witty or mean out, but only found a concerned face looking back at him. Sighing, he decided that he might as well answer the question.

"Honestly, I'm not sure. I feel like I am on a freakin' rollercoaster. We have our good days. We have our bad days. He doesn't know how to act around me. The worst part is sharing a bed. He tries to cuddle sometimes, mostly when he is asleep. And when he touches me…" Kurt trailed off.

Reaching over and taking Kurt's hand, Quinn motioned for him to continue. Santana scooted her chair over and wrapped her arm around Kurt's shoulder.

"When he touches me I feel so disgusted. All I can think about is how those hands touched someone else. All I can think about is how he did the same things he does to me with those hands to someone else. And to top it all off, today we are supposed to talk about it. The affair." Kurt's voice broke at the end of his speech, but he straightened up taking a deep breath.

"Are you ready for this," Quinn offered, her hand tightening around Kurt's.

"I don't think so, but I can't avoid it forever like I have been trying. Every time he has tried to talk about it, I ask him not to. That I'm not ready to," Kurt said as the bell rang, signaling the end of their planning period. Clearing his throat, he rose from his seat, ready to head back to his English room.

Santana reached over and pulled Kurt into a hug. "If you need anything, and I mean anything, you call me okay. I will go Lima Heights on that hair-gelled whore."

Laughing, Kurt told her thank you and stepped back as Santana sent a wave to Quinn before heading to the science labs.

"I hope everything turns out okay. You text me right after, let me know," Quinn told him, pulling back and heading to the door.

"I will. Tell Sam I said hello," Kurt responded. Quinn nodded and left the choir room.

Kurt headed to the door and took a deep breath, dreading the end of the day.

~(*)~(*)~(*)~(*)~(*)~(*)~(*)~(*)~(*)~(*)~

Kurt had managed to talk himself down for the most part, willing himself to calm down. On the drive home, he had managed to almost feel normal. The dread of the upcoming session had dimmed somewhat.

The anger he felt when he seen David's car in parked in front of his house had only managed to shift dread into rage.

David worked with Blaine, and for weeks it had plagued Kurt's mind as to whether or not David actually knew Blaine was having an affair. While Blaine and David had always been close, Kurt had managed to become somewhat of a close friend to David as well.

Pulling into his driveway, Kurt steeled himself for whatever confrontation was coming. Gracefully exiting his car, he began the short walk to his front door. Just as he was about to walk in his front door, David opened it, intent on exiting.

The chilliness that was radiating from Kurt was palpable. David froze, his face full of shock and sadness. Neither man said anything, and the silence dragged on for seconds, although both would swear it seemed like hours.

"Hey Kurt," David offered, his voice hesitant.

Looking at David even more intensely than before, Kurt stepped a bit closer. "Did you know," he asked.

David's cheeks flushed instantly and his face went directly towards the ground, his shame evident. "Kurt, I don't know what to say," he replied, afraid that more said would equal more trouble.

"There isn't really anything else to say is there," Kurt said, the iciness he had so proudly shed a mere week ago already freezing his voice.

"It was an impossible situation," David started, stepping closer to his friend.

"Good day, David," Kurt said as he stepped around the dark-skinned lawyer. Turning around, he looked the man straight in the eyes. David's sadness overtook his face, and for a second Kurt almost cracked.

Instead of breaking though, he merely shut the door, staring at it for a moment. Kurt heard the footsteps, too heavy to be his son, come up behind him.

"Hey honey, how was work," Blaine said as he walked into the foyer, oblivious as ever as to what had just transpired. A folder was in his hands, and as Kurt looked around the main entryway he noticed several boxes with his husband's law firm's logo on the front. The reason for David's visit became clear.

Kurt muttered fine before he walked up the stairs to change his clothes. "You going to be ready to leave in a minute," Blaine called up the stairs. "If we don't leave soon we're going to be late for our appointment."

Kurt hollered back down the stairs that he would be ready and would meet Blaine in the car. He walked into his room and sat on his bed, his ears listening for the opening and closing of the door. Going through his mind, he tried to remember where his son was..

'At Finn's. He is spending the weekend with Finn and Rachel,' Kurt recalled.

The sound of the door closing broke through Kurt's reverie, bringing him back to Earth. Sighing, he began changing his outfit, trying to ignore the chill that was running through his veins. When he was satisfied with his look, he slowly left his room and walked down the stairs, taking a moment to stop and gaze at a family picture every so often.

He walked to the car and entered, feeling nothing when Blaine turned and offered him a soft smile, something he had been doing lately. 'Because he is thankful we're working through this' Kurt recalled from their second session with Dr. Marie together.

They sat in silence for the entire ride, Blaine turning to look at his husband every couple of minutes. He remained silent, not wanting to upset Kurt before they walked into counseling (it was idiotic mistake that had them here, anyway).

"Are you okay," Blaine asked as they pulled into the building that Dr. Marie's office was in.

Kurt remained silent until the car was parked. "I ran into David as I was pulling up."

"Oh yeah? He was just dropping some paperwork off. Reminding me that I have used all of my vacation time. Need to get back to work in a couple of weeks," Blaine said almost sheepishly, unsure of how Kurt would respond to his impending return to work.

Kurt turned towards Blaine and just stared. 'Is this our relationship now? Is he seriously that clueless?' Blaine asked Kurt if that was okay, his return. Kurt stared, receiving an almost perverse pleasure as Blaine's nervousness continued to grow.

"I know that David knew about the affair," Kurt said, voice unwavering and cold.

The color drained from Blaine's face. "Kurt, I am so-"

"Shut up," Kurt said. Blaine's mouth immediately closed. "It's bad enough that you cheated on me, but for one of our friends to know. He has been in our house. He has eaten at our table. He has been a part of our lives since we knew each other. And in spite of all that, he still knew and said nothing."

"Kurt," Blaine tried to start, but Kurt quickly cut him off.

"Shut up, I don't think I was finished yet," turning a signature Kurt Hummel glare his way. "Does anyone else know?"

Blaine was silent, taking in Kurt's demeanor. "No Kurt, no one knows," he said softly, his chest aching.

Kurt went to open his door, and Blaine went to follow suit, but Kurt stopped and sat back.

"You screwing someone hurts Blaine. It hurts so bad. But you were sloppy. And for someone to knows…and not say anything…it hurts even worse." Kurt admitted, his face neutral.

"Kurt, I know-" Blaine tried, but was once again cut off.

"You don't know shit," Kurt replied, removing himself from the car, and heading for the door. Blaine jogged to keep up with his husband's pace.

"Kurt, can we please talk about this," Blaine asked as they slid into the elevator.

"We're going to therapy right now. Maybe we can talk about it there," Kurt replied. Blaine hung his head, tears forming in his eyes. He wanted so badly to undo it all, to erase what he had done.

Kurt really just wanted a shopping cart.


	4. Chapter 4

"So, how are you guys doing today," Marie asked, her smile bright and warm.

"Just peachy," Kurt said, the sneer failing to break Marie's disposition. Blaine had tried numerous times to talk to Kurt on the elevator. Had tried whispering to his husband in the waiting room. In response, Kurt had resorted to the behavior that come to seem so normal: he ignored him.

"Fine Dr. Smith," Blaine said, offering a smile. 'Bet a nice big cart would wipe that right off,' Kurt thought.

"That's good. So we all now why we are here today. Are you guys ready?" She asked. Blaine nodded slowly, while Kurt remained stoic.

"What we need to know before we continue this, Kurt, is whether or not you can handle this, and more importantly, whether or not you're ready to hear this," Marie said, trying to foray into the session's topic.

Kurt gulped and looked down towards his lap. When he looked back up, he was met with the calm face of his marriage counselor and the somewhat distraught face of his husband. Taking a deep breath, he nodded his head.

"Okay Kurt. I want to make some ground rules before we continue: one, if at anytime you feel like you want to stop, either of you, you say the word. Two, it is okay to ask questions, but it also okay to want to pass on them. And three, let's keep it clean. No insults, just communication. Can both of you agree to that," Marie asked, looking between the two. Blaine nodded, albeit it a little eagerly, while Kurt gave a stiff nod.

"Alright, why don't you start Kurt. What do you want to know," Marie asked, sitting back in her chair.

Kurt looked at Blaine, really looked at him. He was nervous. He was scared. This was his husband. His world. Did he really want to open Pandora's Box? Was it worth it? Was learning every little detail worth the risk of not being able to move?

'Yes,' Kurt thought. 'It's better than not knowing.' Meeting his husband's eyes, he let loose the questions that had been bouncing around his head for almost two months.

"How did it start," Kurt asked, his voice steely.

Blaine took a second before responding. "I don't really know how to explain it," Blaine said, a blush coating his cheeks.

"When did you two decide that screwing would be on the weekly agenda," Kurt said, his indifferent mask slipping a little.

"Kurt," Marie warned. Taking another deep breath, Kurt straightened in his seat and turned to face Blaine head, doing his best to send a message that he didn't really care about Marie's rules. Blaine broke eye contact first, looking towards his side, before pointing his eyes back at Kurt, although not meeting the same eyes he had promised forever to.

"He started working at Prince and James about four months ago," Blaine started, looking at Kurt, gauging his reaction. When he received no indication that Kurt was going to bolt from the room, he continued. "He is a secretary. He is David's secretary."

Kurt sat for a minute before he let loose a mocking laugh. "That's just rich. Wow, you were banging our friend's secretary."

Blaine's hands began to tremble, but Kurt remained unfazed. "Kurt, I-"

"Keep going. I want to hear it all now," Kurt said, shifting in the couch, bringing his legs up. He watched Blaine like he was some soap opera. "Who made the first move?" he asked, his tone one of mocking.

"He did. I swear he did. He had been coming on to me since he started working there," Blaine said, hoping that tidbit would help his case a little.

It did not. "So he had been making moves on you for months, yet you didn't feel the need to report it to someone," Kurt asked. "For someone so educated, you're quite the idiot."

Blaine deflated a little before Marie jumped in. "Kurt, you agreed to the rules."

"Dr. Smith, quite frankly, your rules suck dick…which is quite fitting in retrospect," Kurt sneered the first part before turning his glare on Blaine. The tears that had been gathering in Blaine's eyes finally overflowed.

Grabbing a couple tissues and handing them to Blaine, Dr. Smith asked him to step out into the hallway for a moment while she talked with Kurt. Blaine rose from his seat on the couch and turned to leave, pausing for a moment to gaze at Kurt longingly. After he had left, Dr. Smith turned to Kurt and started talking to him.

"I understand that you're upset Kurt. I honestly do. But attacking him right now isn't helping anyone," she said.

"This is why you're a Ph.D. and not an M.D., cause yelling at him is sure helping me," Kurt responded, looking around the room with disdain.

"Kurt, do you want to know what happened or not? We can pull the plug, if you so choose," she said softly, her sympathy evident.

Kurt's hostility seemed to drain from his body. "I want to. I really do. I just am afraid. I'm so afraid," Kurt said, whispering the last part.

"How about this: we bring Blaine back in. I will explain to him that you're going to ask him questions, straight up. He is only supposed to answer. No pleading his case. Just answers. Does that work for you?" Dr. Smith asked.

Kurt nodded and waited while she explained the new rules to his husband. Steeling himself, he watched as Blaine returned to the room and sat across from, tear tracks still evident. Kurt could feel a tug at his insides, his stomach rolling and his chest stuttering. Pushing it aside, he began firing off his questions.

"How did it happen? The first time, I mean," Kurt asked.

Blaine paused for a minute, formulating his response. "We were working late. David left to go home. I was packing up, he was filing things. When I finished I went to help him and somehow we ended up pressed against each other. He was rubbing my shoulder and he just reached over and kissed me," Blaine said, his voice cracking.

"And you kissed him back," Kurt asked, watching as Blaine nodded slowly. "Did you sleep with him that night?"

Blaine looked away, unable to make eye contact. "Yes," he whispered. "But I swear, it meant nothing."

"But you still slept with him again, didn't you? Multiple times even," Kurt said. Blaine's tears increased, his breathe becoming labored.

"How did you feel? Screwing him and coming home to me, to your son," Kurt asked, his voice wavering. Blaine let out a breathe that sounded like a sob.

"Sick. Horrible. I was so disgusted with myself. I wanted to tell you so bad. I did, God Kurt, I wanted to tell you," Blaine managed to squeak out through his tears.

"Then why did I have find out myself? Why did you have pictures of him. Jesus Blaine, just why? Why would you do this? Why did you do this to me," Kurt asked, his voice thick with emotion, his own tears starting to cascade down his cheeks.

"I felt…different. I felt so guilty but it was nice to feel wanted. To feel like someone who looked like that wanted to be with someone like me," Blaine said, his eyes dim.

"You think I didn't want you?" Kurt asked, anger creeping into him once again.

"No…I don't know. You're just so busy, with the Keenan and the house and Arborwood," Blaine responded. "And I was just so stressed with work. He was like an escape.

Swallowing down a retort, and glancing over at Dr. Smith, Kurt continued. "If I had never found the pictures, would the affair have continued?"

"Yes, probably," Blaine answered honestly, his heart breaking at the hurt that bloomed over Kurt's face.

"Where did you guys even do this? In our home?" Kurt asked, fearing the answer.

"Never in our home. I would never Kurt. You have to believe that. It was just sex. It happened at the office and his apartment. Sometimes a hotel room, other times in his car," Blaine pleaded.

"Do you even still love me," Kurt asked, his voice succumbing to everything he was feeling.

Blaine looked like he had just been slapped. Rising from his seat, he got on his knees in front of Kurt. Wrapping his arms around his husband's waist, he pulled him closer. "I love you, more than anything."

Looking down at Blaine, Kurt told the truth. "I love you too." Blaine looked up at him, his eyes wide with hope. "I'm just not sure that it's enough."

~(*)~(*)~(*)~(*)~(*)~(*)~(*)~(*)~

The silence in the car was deafening. Blaine kept his gaze on the road, tears silently leaking down his face. The waterworks had been going strong since they had left Dr. Smith's office. Blaine would occasionally let out a muffled sob.

Kurt just stared out the window.

"I wanted to sing," he said. Blaine looked over at Kurt, his eyes bleeding his heartbreak. "I wanted to sing. Since I was little, that was my dream."

Blaine went to speak, but Kurt put his hand up, conveying his silent demand for Blaine to open his ears, not his mouth.

"You know, my dream changed. The second you walked down those stairs, the minute you put your hand in mine, you became my dream," Kurt wistfully whispered. Blaine let out a sound between a sob and a groan. "Since this…fiasco started, it has been all about you. How sorry you are. How you made a mistake. Why you did it. You begging for forgiveness."

Turning in his seat and looking at the profile of his husband's handsome face, he continued. "When is it about me? When do I get to have time to just feel what I need to feel? When does this become about me, Blaine?"

"Kurt, I…I am so…I just," Blaine said, struggling for words.

Kurt just nodded his head. "See, you haven't thought about that, have you?" When he received no response, he turned his eyes towards the windows once more. Coming to a decision, his voice calmly explained the future. "I'm going to see Finn for a few days. Keenan is already there, so I just need to pack him some clothes."

"Maybe that is a good idea. For us to get away," Blaine said, testing the waters to see where this new revelation would go.

"I meant alone Blaine," Kurt said, watching his husband's reaction. Blaine's hands clenched, and he seemed to come unhinged.

"Don't leave me Kurt. Please, don't leave me," Blaine said as he pulled into their driveway. Turning to Kurt, he grabbed his hand and pulled it to his face, repeating his sentence again.

Squeezing Blaine's hand, Kurt responded. "I will come home. With Keenan. I just need some time to myself. I need time to think Blaine. Can you please just give me that?"

Breathing deep, Blaine nodded and leaned over, capturing Kurt's lips in a desperate kiss. Kurt resisted at first, but gave in. It was nice, to feel Blaine again, to have some physical form of their love.

"Promise me that you will come back to me," Blaine asked.

Kurt, without hesitation, nodded his head. "I will. I just need some space. I just need to leave this city for a while."

And leave he did. Twenty minutes later, Blaine sat at his dining room table, looking at his pathetic attempt at a dinner, feeling the true weight of his actions in the silence that had engulfed his once happy home.

Twenty minutes later, Kurt was on I-75, on his way to one of the places in which he felt the safest: with his brother.


	5. Chapter 5

Snuggling deeper into the most comfortable sheets he had ever had the pleasure of sleeping in, Kurt lazily opened his eyes and stared into the most gorgeous pair of green eyes he had ever seen: the innocent, loving eyes of his son.

"Hi daddy, I missed you," Keenan squealed as he jumped onto the bed and wrapped his tiny arms around Kurt's neck. Laughing, Kurt wrapped his arms around his hyper child and returned the sentiment.

This was why he wanted so desperately to fix things between he and Blaine. Something so innocent, something so sweet, should never have to deal with the storm that was brewing at home. His son meant the world to him. Pure and simple. He loved Blaine, yes, but if it came down to it, he could live without him. It would hurt. Thinking about a life without Blaine hurt, in spite of current circumstances. But a life without Keenan, it would be absolute torture.

"Why are you here daddy? It's only Saturday. I don't want to go home! Uncle Finn is so cool. You said I could stay here until Tuesday daddy," Keenan said, his words running into each other, a pout forming on his face.

Patting his son's head, Kurt let loose another laugh. "I know buddy, and I promise that you will still get to stay. Daddy just missed you so much he had to come and see you."

Keenan's face lit up and something flickered inside Kurt. "Really daddy? Are you staying too?"

"I think I just might. Dad has some work stuff he needs to take care of, and I promised him some space for it," Kurt replied. Keenan, in response, began jumping around the bed, excited.

"Do you want to go fishing daddy? Uncle Finn took me yesterday and he said that I was so good that I might be better than him," Keenan said in one breathe.

"You blew me out of the water kid," Finn said from the doorway, a smile splashed across his face. "Why don't you go help your Aunt Rachel with breakfast."

Keenan nodded and bolted from the room, screaming that he was going to help Auntie Rachel with breakfast.

"Sorry I didn't wrangle him in before he woke you up," Finn said, taking a seat in a chair located next to the bed. "Rachel told me you were here."

Kurt felt a blush coat his cheeks. "Yeah, about that. I'm sorry, I really am. I just needed a break and I wanted to go somewhere that makes me happy and I thought of Keenan and you," Kurt rambled on, stopping to focus his thoughts when Finn clamped a hand over his mouth.

"You're always welcome here Kurt. No brother of mine has to ask before coming to visit," Finn said, his words sincere.

"I'm your only brother," Kurt said, touched at softness of the goofy man. "Sorry I got here so late. I started driving and just couldn't stop. I actually passed your exit…twice."

"I know the feeling. Whenever Rachel and I get in a big fight I take the long way home," Finn offered. "Sorry I was asleep."

"Don't be sorry, it's not like I called. Rachel told me you had an early day. How's business by the way?"

"Good, good. Thinking about opening a fifth garage. A lot of work, but it is the motor city after all," Finn said, his goofy smile overpowering.

The brothers sat in silence for a bit. Finn, gazing at Kurt, finally spoke. "Rachel sent me to wake you up. Breakfast is ready," he said.

~(*)~(*)~(*)~(*)~(*)~(*)~(*)~(*)~

Finn had left right after breakfast, leaving Rachel and Kurt to sit at the breakfast table while Keenan played with toys in the living room.

"Thank you for today," Kurt said. "I can't remember the last time I got to wake up and smile."

"No problem," Rachel said, smiling at her brother-in-law across the dining room table.

"How's the hospital," Kurt asked. Rachel had gone on to be a nurse when Broadway didn't seem to happen. She was smart and had a good heart, so it seemed like a good fit, which it later proved to be.

"Good, same old thing," she said before she hesitantly asked a question. "How are things with you and Blaine?"

"Not sure, actually," Kurt responded. "I have no clue whether we are going to stay together or whether we are going to be able to get passed this. It's a catch-22 situation, either way I'm screwed," Kurt said, staring down into his coffee.

"What do you mean," Rachel asked, staring at her brother-in-law with nothing but compassion.

Sighing, Kurt launched into his explanation. "If I do stay with him, then I'm weak. I will always be the person who let it go, who stayed with someone who cheated. Plenty of people are going to have opinions. They're going to be staring and looking and judging. That's what gets to me."

Taking a breathe, Kurt continued. "And then what happens If I do decide to leave him? You and I both know how gay divorce works: the one with the higher income is the one who gets everything. I can't afford that house on my own. Blaine makes three times what I make. And then what? I start over, with a kid, in my thirties. I end up with a shitty apartment? Custody would be a nightmare. Biologically, he is mine. Legally, he belongs to both of us. And don't get me wrong, I love that, but I can't put Keenan through this."

Rachel just nodded, understanding where he was going with it. Rising from her seat, she walked around the table and took the seat next to his. Wrapping her arms around him, she pulled him to her, hoping to offer some form of comfort. Smiling softly, Kurt wrapped his arms around her in return, squeezing.

"I hate him," Rachel said, breaking the silence.

"Don't hate someone for me Rach, even I don't hate him," Kurt said.

Pulling away from him, she turned and looked him in the eyes. "I hate him Kurt. For what he has done to you." Tears formed in her eyes. "You don't deserve this. He has just taken and taken from you. You used to be so full of light, so full of joy. And since you married him, it's like a part of you has gone to sleep."

His eyes, full of resignation, met hers. "People change Rach. He changed. I changed. I just don't know where to go from here."

Rachel ran her fingers through his hair, her tears finally leaking down her face. "Where do you want to go? Honestly, don't think about it. Where do you want to go with Blaine, from here?"

Almost instantly, Kurt responded. "I want to be the two teenagers who met on that grand staircase. I want to be able to get back to a good place. I want him in my life. I want him, in spite of all of this."

"Well then, go for it," Rachel said. Standing up, she began picking up the breakfast dishes, leaving Kurt to stew in his own thoughts.

~(*)~(*)~(*)~(*)~(*)~(*)~

Kurt ended up extending his visit until Wednesday. He had called Quinn to let her know that he wouldn't be around for a few days. She had been amazing, offering to deliver his lesson plans if that would be of any help. Kurt had accepted her offer and in return offered his own gratitude.

Blaine had texted him constantly, from little love messages to questions that only needed common sense to be answered.

'Where do we keep the sugar?'

'How do I set up a series recording on TiVo?'

'Do you remember where we put last year's vacation pictures?'

Rachel had said he was probably just testing the waters. "He wants to see if you answer," she had said.

"I told him I wasn't sure when I was going to come home. He's been blowing up my phone since," Kurt replied.

"You should make him sweat. Don't answer his texts or calls; see how desperate he gets," Rachel said, reminding him of the scheming girl he had grown up with.

And that was exactly what he had done. On Saturday, the first day he had been there, he had received three texts and one call, right before bed. By Tuesday, after ignoring almost everything and offering the barest responses, Blaine was up to twelve texts and four phone calls. He spent time with his son, and bonded with his brother and sister (which is how referred to them, much to their delight).

It was torture,, Kurt knew that. On some level, he knew it was wrong. Several of the texts asked how Keenan was doing and what Keenan was up to, but even references to their child didn't draw a response from Kurt.

It didn't stop him though. Kurt had called Blaine on Wednesday to inform him that he would be coming home. He had also explained Keenan would be staying until Sunday. At first Blaine was going to protest, but Kurt explained it was so they would have some alone time to work on their marriage. Blaine had agreed immediately.

~(*)~(*)~(*)~(*)~(*)~(*)~(*)~

It was on his way home, after receiving a call from Santana, that Kurt came face to face with a demon he had been avoiding.

"Hey lady lips. Where the hell are you," was Santana's way of greeting.

"I'm on my way home from Finn's house," Kurt said, changing lanes, his exit nearing.

"You could have dropped a text. I had to hear second-hand from sunshine-daisy that you had flown the coop," Santana said with an annoyed tone.

"I did not fly the coop. I took a vacation. Three days off from work is hardly flying the coop," Kurt returned. "We had a rough session Friday. I just needed some time off."

"I don't know why you're wasting all your money on that fancy doctor. Give me a couple hours with both of you. You won't have to worry about him cheating when I am through with him," Santana said. "So what did pebbles have to say, bam-bam?"

"Same old. It was a mistake. It was an accident. Forgive me, I love you," Kurt said. "It might be easier if he just started recording it and playing it."

"Lets me schools ya on a few things my dear friend. One, unless his dick is magnetized and the trick has some metal ball up his butt, there is no way that physically can be classified as an accident," Santana said. Kurt burst out laughing, causing his friend to smile on her end of the line.

"You should write a book, San," Kurt joked.

"Already working on it. Already have a title, 'I'm Right, You're Wrong: Why Stupid People Will Not Inherit the Earth'. You're whole debacle is chapter three," Santana shot at Kurt. "So two, I have a solution to your mess."

"And what would that be," Kurt said as he got off on his exit. A beep sounded out, and looking down, Kurt realized he was on dangerously close to empty. "And make it quick San, I need to stop and get gas."

"You should screw someone," she said, her tone even.

Stunned for a second (because honestly, in the darkest of hours, the thought had crossed his mind a time or two), Kurt finally responded. "I don't think that will help my marriage. But thank you for taking the time to think of that for me."

"Seriously, consider it. While you were on your little sabbatical, Oakwood got a really hot, really fine Phys. Ed. Teacher. And thanks to a little detective work, guess what: butt pirate! If he didn't have a piece of equipment that I tend to avoid, I would be all over him. But since I am feeling generous, I have decided to let you have him. No thanks needed, money will do."

"Santana, you have issues," Kurt said as he pulled into a gas station. "Sleeping with someone for the sake of sleeping with someone is not going to fix my marital problems. Evening the numbers is only going to make the situation a whole lot…" Kurt said, his voice slowly fading, eyes glued to the car next to him.

"Kurt? Kurt, are you there," Santana asked, her voice confused.

But Kurt couldn't answer her. Kurt was too busy staring at the person who had seemed to have caused so much trouble in his life. Pumping gas at the station next to him, in all of his blonde glory, was the face, and the body, that had been splayed out on his husband's computer.


	6. Chapter 6

Kurt Hummel-Anderson could have gone home. He could have gotten in his car and driven home. He could have walked through the front door, pausing to give Keenan a hug and Blaine some acknowledgement. He could have walked into his kitchen and put a pot roast in the oven. They, the once happy-now-broken family could have sat down to supper, with Keenan laughing and Blaine doing anything to get Kurt to smile or show some emotion, and then Kurt Hummel-Anderson would have gone to bed early, pushing all thoughts of smothering his cheating husband out of his head while doing his best to ignore the body curled up next to him.

Kurt Hummel-Anderson could have done a lot of things in that moment, the moment where he was feet from the man who had so carelessly wrecked his life. Instead of going home and letting the iciness sweep over him, he hung up the phone, turning it off as soon as Santana tried to called him back.

The young blonde man that he had only seen plastered on his husband's computer screen walked with confidence. Kurt watched as he walked into the gas station to pay for his bill. Kurt hit behind the pump at his station and watched him. Sliding his card into the machine, he began to fill up his tank.

He had imagined this a dozen times. A shopping cart tended to be involved in his dreams, anger and violence and even a scenario where he caught the two of them in bed together had gone through his mind a time or two. But he had never imagined that this meeting would be so mundane, so boring.

The young man walked out of the station, and Kurt heard his pump signal that his tank was full. The blonde man looked over and caught Kurt's eye. For a moment, the man looked confused, like he couldn't believe what he was seeing. Then realization dawned on him that he was indeed seeing the husband of his ex-lover. Kurt watched fear cloud over the man's features, and watched as he scurried towards his car.

In that moment, Kurt knew he had to speak to him. He knew that he was never going to have another chance, another moment like this in his life.

Rushing forward, Kurt came upon Matt, if he remembered his name correctly, as he was attempting to get into his car.

Matt turned and put his arms, saying "Please don't hurt me. I'm sorry, just please don't hurt me.'

Kurt took in the youthfulness of the Matt's face, and for a second could see why his husband had been attracted to the young man. "I don't want to hurt you."

Matt relaxed only a little bit, his audible gulp the only sound passing between the two. "Then what do you want?'

"To talk. I just want to talk," Kurt said. Matt looked as if he was about to shake his head no, his hand already squeezing his door handle. Undeterred, Kurt continued. "You owe me that alteast."

Matt paused for a moment and his hand unclenched from the door handle. It took a second, but he eventually nodded his agreement.

~(*)~(*)~(*)~(*)~(*)~(*)~(*)~(*)~

"This is awkward, isn't it," Matt asked, biting his lip.

"This is awkward," Kurt replied nervously, chuckling a little. Matt's face softened, and the tenseness bled from his shoulders. Matt offered Kurt a smile and shifted in his seat, leaning closer.

It was odd, Kurt thought, to be sitting in front of the man he had come to detest. Kurt had managed to convince the young blonde man to accompany him to a small, hole-in-the-wall coffee shop five minutes from the gas station.

For months Kurt has created a picture of Matt that was nowhere near the man was sitting in front him. In his mind, he had been a predator, feeding off the thrill of screwing married men. Kurt wasn't prepared for this. Where he expected a smug grin or a cocky attitude, he was met with a subtle smile and big blue eyes filled with remorse.

"So, you wanted to talk," Matt asked, his face gaining a look of anticipation.

"I do, I'm just not sure what I want to say to you," Kurt replied.

Matt took a deep breath before responding. "Say whatever you're thinking. God knows I probably deserve it."

"You deserve a lot more than words," Kurt said.

Matt replied with, "You're right. I probably do deserve more than words. Why don't you just ask me whatever you like."

"Why? Why would you do this to me? To my family?" Kurt asked, his anger bleeding into his voice.

Breathing deeply, Matt stared at Kurt for a moment before leaning back in his seat. "To be honest, I don't know why I did it," he said. "It's probably not good enough for you, but it's all I got."

Whatever sympathy Kurt felt for the man fled his body. "You're right, that answer isn't good enough.

"I want you to be honest. Completely and totally honest. I've heard his side, but as you might imagine, I'm not exactly the most trusting person in the world right," Kurt said.

For a moment Kurt thought Matt was going to get up and walk away. And for that moment, Kurt felt relief. He didn't know what had driven him to ask for this meeting. Life might have been a lot easier had he just gotten in his car and driven away.

"It was my first day at the office. David had asked me to deliver a few things to one of the senior partners. You've been there, the place is like a maze. I was so lost, but I didn't want to look like a complete idiot. I figured asking for directions wouldn't have been the best first day impression and it was my first big job. I must have looked like a lost puppy or something," Matt said, his voice soft.

Kurt nodded his head, encouraging the young man to continue.

"Blaine found me on the third floor, ready to have a nervous breakdown. He was so kind and sweet. I started flirting with him, but I didn't see the ring until right before he sent me on my way," Matt continued.

"Blaine always stops to help anyone who is lost. It bothers him, seeing people distressed like that," Kurt said. Kurt remembered the thousands of times that he had watched his husband go up to people who didn't have a clue as to where they were going. It had once warmed his heart, seeing his husband being so sweet. Now the memories just left a bittersweet taste in his mouth.

"So you had the hots for my husband? That was enough for you to jump into bed with him?" Kurt asked.

"I found your husband attractive, yes. But it was his personality. He was like a mentor to me. He gave me advice. He was almost like a father figure," Matt replied.

"Pardon me, I'm not sure whether you were raised in a double wide in the most backward trailer park in America, or whether your dad did something to you and you've adopted this 'daddy hits because he loves' mentality, but wanting to screw your father figure is a little weird," Kurt snapped. Despite being calm when the meeting first began, Kurt could feel pressure in his chest and his heartbeat soar.

" I said almost, to be fair," Matt said, futilely trying to diffuse the tension. Kurt didn't respond, and Matt nervously cleared his throat.

After a moment, Kurt sighed and motioned for him to continue.

"We just started talking. He would come to David's office almost every day. I made the first move. It was me," Matt said.

"Yeah, I've heard," Kurt replied sardonically. You know we have a kid, right? I mean seriously, we have a child together."

"I know. And I feel horrible about it. I do. He always talked about you guys. Even when we were together, you were all he thought about. You and Keenan," Matt responded.

Kurt straightened in his seat. "Don't use his name. Don't even think my son's name."

Matt nodded and apologized. He waited a second before continuing, attempting to analyze the motivation behind his actions.

"I grew up without my father. I just liked the attention. Someone complimenting me, saying nice things. I confused it with love. Looking back, I didn't feel much of anything for him," Matt said.

"You told him you loved him," Kurt asked, icy dread spreading through out his body. This had been his biggest fear: the emotional side attached to the affair.

"Yeah, I did," Matt answered honestly. "I didn't mean it though. Not the way you guys love each other. TO be honest, I was a little jealous."

"Trust me, our relationship is exactly sunshine and rainbows right now. Ironic considering we both are part of the rainbow," Kurt said.

"I'm sorry. I really am sorry," Matt said. While Kurt didn't want the apology, he on some level appreciated it.

Kurt nodded, an action he had become used to using, as his words seemed to fail him. In spite of all the pain the young man had caused"I lost my mother when I was little. I get it," Kurt said. "I get trying to push your feelings onto someone else."

"Really," Matt asked, the skepticism evident.

"Really. I was convinced that I was in love with my step-brother," Kurt responded. At seeing Matt's confused look Kurt delve deeper. "It was before he became my step-brother. I missed my mom, she used to be so kind, a goofy personality. When Finn came along, he kind of reminded me of her. "

They both looked at each other for a second before laughing softy. The waitress came and dropped off the bill.

Kurt went to grab it but stopped midway through. Looking over at Matt, Kurt smiled and handed him the black folder. "You screwed my husband. The least you can do is buy me coffee."

"My pleasure," Matt said. "I'm glad I got paid then, wasn't expecting a coffee trip."

For reasons unbeknownst to him, Kurt asked Matt how he liked working at the office. Matt hesitated for a moment before answering.

"I don't know if you've heard, but I don't work there anymore," Matt said.

Kurt couldn't recall whether he had been informed of this, although he was pleased to hear that the man his husband had had the affair with was no longer in the shared work environment.

"It was for the best, I think. David told me that Blaine thought he couldn't work in the same place as long as I was there. Since Blaine is so good at his job, they let me go," Matt said,

"So you were assigned to a different worker? Hope they aren't married," Kurt said good-naturedly, although there was a certain bite to his words. He may have liked the guy, hell, in the right circumstances they could have been friends, but it didn't change what he had done.

"No they let me go. Blaine wanted me gone. Not that I can blame him," Matt said. "I'm 19 though, I'll bounce back."

Kurt felt like he had been sucker punched. This was not a man in front of him. It was a child. A whole new anger was born inside Kurt that moment. An anger which set an idea aflame in his head.

Matt reached into his wallet and pulling out some bills. While Matt was settling the bill, Kurt rose to leave, but stopped when a thought came to him. Whether or not Blaine had loved Matt had been a concern of Kurt's for a long time. He couldn't pass the opportunity up to finally get the answers which he had been seeking.

"I just have one more question," Kurt said, settling back into his seat. "Did he ever tell you that he loves you?"

Matt went rigid and refused to meet Kurt's eyes. He had thought this was over, that they could both move on, but the sandy-haired man tried to drag him back into the mess he created and so desperately wanted to forget.

"I just want honesty," Kurt said, sensing Matt's trepidation, although the thought of what the young man may say made Kurt sick to his stomach. "Did he ever tell you that he loves you?"

Matt nodded his head, looking down at the table, unable to meet Kurt's eyes. Kurt's breath shuddered, and he could feel the tears leaking to the surface.

Matt looked stricken, and hastily explained his answer. "It was just one time. I had said I love you and kept badgering him to respond. He did, but he never said it again."

"Doesn't make it sting any less," Kurt whispered.

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Pulling into his driveway, Kurt turned off the car and sat for a moment, thinking of the day's events. He could handle his husband screwing someone else, it hurt, but it wasn't the worst thing in the world. To hear that his husband had betrayed him and used words that were meant to be sacred just tore Kurt to shreds.

Sighing deeply, he exited his car and made his way into his home. The lights were off and no sounds could be heard, odd considering it was mid-afternoon. Craning his neck, Kurt listened for signs to see if anyone was downstairs. Hearing nothing, he made his way upstairs. As he passed Keenan's room he noticed his son sprawled across his bed, light snoring filling the room. Kurt felt his chest tighten and quietly closed the door, leaving his son to his nap.

Traveling further down the hall, Kurt entered his room. Sounds of running water came the en suite, and Kurt noticed that Blaine's clothes were scattered everywhere.

"He can bend some twink over, but it's too much work to pick up his nasty underwear," Kurt muttered, collecting the clothes.

"Nice to see you're in good form," Blaine said as he exited the bathroom, Kurt not having heard the water stop running. Despite Blaine's muscular form being wrapped in a towel, Kurt could find not even an ounce of desire.

Blaine came up Kurt and placed a chaste kiss on his lips, whispering endearments. "I missed you."

Saying nothing, Kurt simply turned and walked over to the bed. Blaine strode to the walk-in closet, a feature Kurt had demanded, and began to dress. "Santana called. Said you hung up on her and that, and I quote, 'you had better use your fairy wings and fly to phone to call a latina back'."

Kurt remained silent. A minute later Blaine walked into the bedroom, a confused look on his face. "I think we should go to dinner tonight. You know, we've been apart a while. It would be nice to do something. Like old times," Blaine said, a hopeful look in his eyes. Turning to the mirror, he began styling his hair.

"I ran into Matt today," Kurt said, taking sick satisfaction in the way Blaine's shoulders immediately tensed. Blaine turned and looked at him, horror coating his face.

"What," Blaine asked.

"You heard me. I would repeat it, but by the looks of your face, BTW: not an attractive look sweetie, you heard me. Ran into him at the gas station. Naturally, he looked a little scared. Can't blame him, poor dear thought I was going to castrate him," Kurt said, inspecting his snails. Blaine remained rooted to the spot, unsure of what to do.

"What did he say, Kurt," Blaine asked, finally breaking the silence.

Eyes snapping up and staring into brown orbs, Kurt responded calmly. "The weather. American Idol. Why Blaine, afraid of something?"

Taking a ragged breathe, Blaine continued the conversation. "Seriously Kurt. Please don't play games. I thought we were finally moving on."

"We were Blaine. After my time at Finn's, I was ready to come home and dedicate myself to working on this marriage. That was until I found out you told him you loved him," Kurt said.

Blaine's face blanched, and then he promptly began to defend himself. "One time Kurt. I said it once and it meant nothing. Did he make it seem bigger? He's a liar Kurt, he lies-"

"Don't you dare! Don't you dare pin it all on him," Kurt roared from his seat on the bed. "He's just a kid Blaine. He looked up to you. He was a freaking 19 year-old kid and you took advantage of that," Kurt said, shaking Blaine's hands off of his own. "You had him fired? Seriously!"

"I did what I thought I had to do Kurt! What the hell do you want from me? What do I gotta do? Tell me and I'll do it," Blaine said, his voice reaching higher decibels.

"You've asked me what I wanted? You really want to know Blaine," Kurt yelled, his face flushing a deep red.

"Yes! Jesus Christ that's all I've wanted. I can't stand living in this limbo with you. Never knowing where I stand with you, never knowing whether you hate me or just can tolerate me that day. I can't live like this. We can't live like this," Blaine yelled, his breaths coming in ragged pants.

Blaine fell to his knees in front of Kurt, desperately seeking his husband's hands. Kurt resisted at first, the storm inside of him hitting a cresendo.

Looking up into Kurt's eyes, Blaine whispered a desperate plea. "Just tell me what you want from me Kurt. Please, just tell me what I can do for you."

Kurt returned his gaze, memorizing every line and shadow, and sighed softly. Removing his hands from Blaine's grasp, he rose from his spot on the bed. Kurt walked to the door and stopped before he passed over the threshold. Blaine's eyes followed his every move.

Nodding his head once, Kurt reached a decision. "You really know what I want," Kurt asked, taking in Blaine's slow nod. "I want you to take what you need and I want you to get out."

Kurt watched as Blaine's entire form crumpled. Shaking his head once, disgusted at the man who was once his rock, Kurt turned and took his leave from the room.


	7. Chapter 7

Kurt Hummel-Anderson was lost in the land of sleep, riding a high that could only be created from the memory of the most perfect moment of he and his husband's lives together.

The memory which comprised his dream was a day from the young couple's honeymoon. Instead of worshipping the beautiful beaches of Greece, the two had found a meadow bathed in sunlight and had lain there after a picnic.

"I'll love you forever, Kurt Hummel," Blaine whispered, gazing softly down at his husband.

Smiling serenely, Kurt returned his beloved's gaze and slowly tilted his head forward, his soft lips seeking Blaine's rougher lips. Sensing his husband's goal, Blaine moved to meet Kurt, letting out a soft sigh as their lips connected.

The sun caressed the couple's skin, its rays offering gentle comfort. Breaking away, Kurt leaned back against the grass and smiled up at Blaine. Giggling softly, he reached up and wove his fingers into Blaine's tight curls.

"I'll love you forever Blaine Anderson," Kurt responded, promise lacing his words.

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Jerking awake, Kurt shot to a sitting position in his luxurious bed. His breathes were labored and staggered, the product of being pulled from a deep slumber. Looking around for the cause of the noise which ripped him from a world that only sleep could recreate, Kurt squinted and found the culprit. Keenan was shyly hiding behind one of the double doors that led into Kurt's room. Laughing, Kurt beckoned his son over. Keenan, hesitating for a moment, leisurely made his way to his father, his small feet dragging.

Reaching down, Kurt grabbed Keenan before he could begin to climb into his bed and nestled him into his side. "Good morning gumdrop," Kurt said, stroking his hair.

"Morning daddy," Keenan said smiling, his face alight with joy from the blatant affection.

Looking towards the window, Kurt took in the early morning sky, indicating that it was just past dawn. It was odd to Kurt, for Keenan to be awake so early, given that it was a Saturday morning. "What's got you up so early," he asked his son.

"Dad is picking my up at 8:30 for the Tiger's game today. Remember Daddy, you said it was his turn to spend the day with me," Keenan replied, his voice reflecting the innocence that was within the child.

Kurt's heartbeat skipped a beat at the mention of his estranged husband. It had been two weeks since he had asked his husband to leave and it had taken a toll on everyone in the Anderson-Hummel household. At first Keenan had just thought it was Blaine going on a business trip, and Kurt had let him believe it, unable to break that part of his son's innocence. Once a week had gone by, with limited contact between Blaine and Kurt, Kurt explained to Keenan that Blaine was going to be living in an apartment five minutes away for a while. Keenan had struggled to understand, but, like he always did, he went with the flow.

Keenan's stomach rumbled, causing the child to blush and Kurt to laugh. Picking Keenan up, he headed down the stairs to begin breakfast, steeling himself for the interaction that he knew was coming.

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Kurt and Keenan had just finished breakfast when the knock resounded through out the house. It was odd to Kurt, to know that Blaine was knocking to enter his own house, but appreciated the effort from his husband. Rising from his seat at the breakfast table, Kurt began to pick up the dishes. He told Keenan to answer the door, who shot from the room. As he began to scrub the plates and pans, he could hear the excited chatter of his son and couldn't help but smile. He heard Blaine tell Keenan to go upstairs and get ready and could also hear the footsteps growing closer to the kitchen. Kurt's movements began to slow down, and halted once he heard the footsteps stop. Bracing himself, he turned around and almost gasped at the sight of his once semi-vain husband.

Blaine's face was pale, obviously devoid of exposure to the sun. Dark circles wrapped around his eyes, adding years to his appearance. While still muscular, he had looked like he had lost weight. Despite all of this, Blaine had a small smile as he looked at Kurt. He was the first to break the silence.

"How have you been," Blaine said, his eyes taking in every inch of Kurt, desperately trying to memorize anything and everything about him.

Kurt lent farther back into the counter, taking comfort in the stability it offered his figure. Despite seeing Blaine a handful of times since he had left, Kurt still couldn't connect the current state of his marriage with the what he once knew as his happy family. "Things are good. Very good," Kurt replied.

Kurt could see that his response was not the one for which Blaine had been seeking. Blaine's shoulders slumped and his face became sullen, the look accentuated by the dark bags under his eyes. Blaine nodded, his mouth opening several times but no words bubbled from the lawyer's mouth. Kurt remained in his position, unsure of what to do next.

It was moments like this that Kurt hated with a passion. They had once been like the Earth and its moon: there never used to be jerky movements; they used to have a fluidity to their movement. They would orbit one another, just intuitively knowing what the other needed or when he needed it. Kurt couldn't remember when that changed. To be honest, he would rather not look back and pinpoint the moment, afraid that the thought would only worsen the ache in his chest.

Clearing his throat, Kurt pushed himself from the counter and moved around Blaine, noticing how the man angled his body so he could Kurt in his line of vision. Collecting the plates from breakfast, Kurt turned his back to Blaine and moved to the sink to begin cleaning. Silence remained thick in the air, a tension so palatable it felt as if their was a third presence in the room.

"I miss you," Blaine whispered, breaking the silence. Kurt became paralyzed, uncertainty welling up within him. He could feel Blaine move closer, could smell the scent so unique to him, and flinched only a little when he felt his husband's hands wrap around his waist. "I miss you so much it hurts, Kurt. You have no idea how much it hurts to be away from you, from our home," Blaine whispered, his lips ghosting softy across his neck.

Anger pooled within Kurt, overpowering any emotions remotely resembling pity or fondness. "You have no idea how much it hurts to think of what you've done," Kurt replied, shrugging free of the cocoon Blaine had created. Moving from his spot, Kurt returned to his previous place, supported by the counter. For the first time that morning, Kurt looked into Blaine's eyes. Dull and coated with a shiny sheen of tears,

"I still want us to work on our marriage. I still want us to go to therapy and work through this. I need you in my life Kurt. I need you," Blaine said softly.

Unable to meet Blaine's eyes, Kurt looked anywhere but. It suddenly hurt for him to breathe, and his chest felt unbearably tight. "What brought that on," he finally managed to get out.

"I'm just concerned that you've given up on us is all," Blaine answered, the sincerity cracking Kurt's shell a bit.

"I meant my vows Blaine, and I will continue with the therapy. I promise," Kurt responded, pouring every ounce of sincerity into his words that he could. Blaine nodded, and shuffled around, clearly uncomfortable with the turn on conversation.

"Why did you even stay with me," Blaine asked, the question having been on his mind since the day he left.

Looking down for a minute, Kurt listened to the quiet sounds coming from the second story, the only indication that Keenan was home. Squeezing his eyes closed, he desperately clung to the image of his family and of the smile that lit up his whole world: the smile of his son. Opening his eyes he met the gaze of his husband. "For him," Kurt simply whispered. "For us. For the people we used to be. Because I love you. Because I love our family."

Blaine made a move to come to Kurt once again but backed away once Kurt shook his head. "Tell me what to do. Tell me what I need to do to come home," Blaine said.

Kurt released a melancholic laugh. "It's not that simple, and I think you know that," Kurt said. Blaine's faced remained stoic. "You're starting to sound like a broken record, honey. So many promises, yet so little faith to place in them."

"Don't do that Kurt. Don't shut me out. I'm not going to let you do that to me," Blaine, his blank mask finally slipping to reveal the anger beneath.

"Shut up Blaine. I am going to tell you exactly what you're going to do. If you want to come home, if you want me to finish therapy, you're going to do exactly as I say," Kurt said, his face contorting with his own rage.

Blaine was taken aback, before shrinking in on himself. Meekly, he nodded and waited for direction.

"You're going to take our son to Detroit for this game. You're going to assure him that everything is fine, and that you and I are simply taking a break from one another, like a vacation," Kurt coldly stated. Blaine looked at Kurt, nodding his head slowly, as if it pained him to do so.

Kurt then continued. "You're going to return him to me, only after you've taken him for dinner. You're going to make sure he is going to come home smiling. You're going to drop him off, then leave, without trying to pull any of the shit you just did. You're going to go to your apartment and wait two days before you come to take him to the zoo. And after you've done that, after you've made sure our son receives all the attention that you have failed to give, I swear to you on our marriage, granted that might not sound so comforting to you, given its recent track record, that I will be there for our next joint session. Is that understood?" Kurt questioned.

Blaine nodded his head morosely, his eyes remaining downcast. The moment was broken by the sound of small feet pounding down the stairs. Blaine looked towards the staircase, then to Kurt, and then back, waiting for his son to appear. Keenan shot down the stairs and headed straight for Blaine, wrapping his arms tightly around his dad. Blaine smiled, teary-eyed once again, and returned the embrace. Kurt couldn't help but smile, touched by the sight before him.

Keenan let go of his dad and then turned to his daddy. He ran to Kurt and wrapped his arms tightly around his daddy. "I love you daddy," he said. "Why can't you come with us," he asked.

Blaine moved closer to the two, yet kept a respectable distance. He gave Kurt a questioning look, wanting an answer to his son's question for himself.

"It's your time with your dad, sweetie. And you know how I feel about sports," Kurt said, trying to lighten the look of disappointment on Keenan's face. "Plus I have plans with Auntie Santana and Auntie Quinn."

Keenan was quiet for a second before nodding his head. He squeezed Kurt tighter before rushing from the kitchen to the front door.

"What are you guys doing," Blaine asked.

Kurt felt a snappish comment race to his mouth but managed to stop it in its tracks before it could break free. Deciding to keep the peace, and also delighting in his own secret, Kurt responded in a semi-clipped tone. "We are going to lunch with a new colleague of ours. A gym teacher. You actually know him, old friend from high school."

A contemplative look took hold of Blaine's face. Before he could further question Kurt, Keenan raced back into the room. Grabbing Blaine's hand, he attempted to lead the athletic man to the car. Blaine eventually gave in, despite wanting to question Kurt further. Delivering a half-hearted wave, he departed from the house.

Kurt remained stationed where he was at, only moving once he heard the tell-tale signs of Blaine's car. Sighing, he left the kitchen and ascended the stairs, intent on finishing some grading before heading to his lunch date with his friends, old and recently rediscovered.

~(*)~(*)~(*)~(*)~(*)~(*)~(*)~(*)~

Three hours later, Kurt found himself outside of a quiet bistro that he and the girls tended to frequent whenever they were out and about. Walking in, he searched the small establishment for any signs that he was not the first to arrive. Quickly coming up with nothing, he headed towards the hostess stationed before the walkway to the seating area. After explaining who he was, she confirmed his suspicions and explained that he was the first of the party to arrive. Opting to be seated at their table while he waited, he settled in.

Kurt looked around the room, taking in the small groups of people clustered around beautiful oak tables. Though there were very few groups present for lunch, couples seemed to dominate the room. Sighing, Kurt turned looked towards his lap, attempting to avoid the sight of couples that seemed far happier than he was. His silent reverie was broken by the sound of his phone emitting soft chimes. Chuckling softly, he answered the phone once he read the name of the caller.

"Hey Santana," he said, looking around to see if anyone had arrived yet.

"How's my little fairy bottom this fine day," Santana said, the sound of screeching tires and horns honking add a background to the conversation.

"Just fine, wondering where the hell everyone else is," Kurt responded, picturing Santana wreaking havoc on the roads of Toledo.

"Cinderella just left her castle. I'm about five minutes away," she said, followed by unintelligible Spanish and more honking. "Any sign of McGymy?"

"McGymy? Really Santana? I thought we discussed you and Grey's Anatomy," Kurt said, looking around once again. His eyes met those of the gym teacher which they had just been discussing. Standing and waving the tall, muscular man over, he finished his conversation with Santana. "He just got here."

"I still can't believe you know him. He is so hot! I mean seriously, I would detour from Vagiville for a taste of that-" Santana said, only to be cut off by Kurt hanging up the phone.

The man came over and pulled Kurt into a hug. Startled at the contact at first, Kurt took a moment before he wrapped his arms around his new colleague. "Hey buddy," the man said as he took the seat directly across from Kurt.

Kurt smiled warmly and took his own seat. "Hey Wes," he said, admiring the smile he received from his old friend.


	8. Chapter 8

Two hours after he left lunch with Wes, Quinn and Santana (who had made so many inappropriate comments she had made both Kurt and Wes blush), Kurt found himself sitting the office of Dr. Marie Smith. Since Blaine had left, he had only been to see Dr. Smith twice. Never acknowledging that Blaine was no longer living in the house. He wasn't stupid, though. Despite the distance that had grown between the two, he still talked with his husband. In the two weeks that he had been gone, they had conversed half a dozen times.

Through out his session, she questioned Kurt about his feelings towards therapy and group sessions. He tried to stay engaged, but it had been a good day. It was nice to catch up with Wes. He had mellowed since high school, his presence becoming much more enjoyable. Kurt was also pleased to see that the Warbler was fitting into the group of teachers that comprised his best friends.

It was hard to hold onto that feeling when Dr. Smith was questioning him about the removal of his husband from their marital home. Explaining that Blaine had been discussing their separation (Kurt flinched at the words, never having attached the word to their current situation), Marie asked about the arrangement.

"Is this what you wanted," she asked.

"I just wanted to be happy," Kurt responded. Dr. Smith motioned for him to continue. "I'm not sure what I want, or whether that will even include Blaine. I just know that I couldn't exist in that house, acting like nothing was wrong. It was driving me crazy," he elaborated.

"What did you feel? When he left," Dr. Smith clarified.

"To be honest…relief. I feel relief. It's like I can breathe again," Kurt admitted hesitantly. "Is that weird?" he questioned.

Marie shook her head. "That's normal Kurt. You're relationship hit this humongous roadblock. It's not something that you can just ignore. It makes sense that you would feel relief once that stressor was out of your life."

Kurt snorted. "It was really more for his benefit. I went to bed dreaming about deserted parking lots and shopping carts. I was probably going to wake up one night banging one over his head."

Dr. Smith laughed. "What is it with you and the shopping cart thing, Kurt?"

"What can I say? It speaks to me. He ran over my heart with his slutty, trampy, skankiness. It would only be polite to return the favor," Kurt said, projecting an air of indifference.

"So, in his session, Blaine tells me you met Matt. Want to talk about that," Dr. Smith ventured, gauging Kurt's reaction.

Glaring, he seized the good doctor up, silently noting that while her skirt was three seasons ago, the Chanel boots more than made up for the woman's lack of tact. "We had lunch. Quite lovely, really. Nice, YOUNG man. A lot younger than I originally thought," Kurt answered, completely honest.

"How does that make you feel," she asked.

"What is it with you people and the 'How does that make you feel' routine? Didn't they teach you something more at those fancy schools," Kurt asked, evading the question. A stern look from his therapist thawed his mouth. "Fine. It makes me feel old. Which is stupid because I just turned thirty. If thirty is considered old, then I really am not looking forward to forty. Maybe this will be like some twisted anniversary present. Every decade he goes out and screws someone. Would keep you in business."

Dr. Smith remained stoic, obviously trying, and succeeding, to suppress a smile. "Obviously it disturbs you Kurt. I'm a little concerned that weren't going to mention it to me," she said.

"Nothing personal doc, it's just been a shitty couple of weeks," Kurt shot back.

"I thought you said you felt relief," Marie ventured, once again, taking in Kurt's demeanor. "Tell me Kurt, what exactly are you feeling right now?"

"I do, feel relief. It's just hard. Hard to be in that house, hard to see him, hard to trust that he isn't out there doing the same thing again," Kurt said. Leaning back in his seat, Kurt twiddled his thumbs. "He's with Keenan today."

Marie leaned back in her chair, jotting something down. Kurt tried to lean forward, wondering what it was she was writing. Without looking up from her pad, she continued her line of questioning. "Does that bother you?"

Kurt contemplated the question for a minute, formulating his response. "A little. Not that Keenan is with him, I mean he's been nothing but a great father to him, for the most part."

"I sense some underlying issues there. What do you mean for the most part?" Marie asked.

Kurt repeated his earlier reaction, trying to find the right wording. "I know that Blaine loves Keenan. I understand that with every fiber of my being. It was Blaine who talked me into a child. And I get that our issues are our issues. But at the same time…if Blaine loved Keenan…how could he do this to our family. To me?"

Marie went to ask another question, but Kurt cut her off, verbalizing his thoughts and fears. "That's what makes me so angry: that he would jeopardize our whole life together for a couple of quick screws. And now that's he caught, now that, gee, can't hide it anymore, he's sorry and claims that he loves me, that he loves our family. It's a cop out. It's bull shit. You're not supposed to hurt the people you love. And that's another thing. He didn't hurt me; he destroyed me. I feel so…insecure, so unsure of whether he is telling the truth or lying again."

By the time he finished, Kurt was flushed. Not used to displaying his vulnerability so openly. Sitting back, he questioned his therapist.

"Where can we go from here? That's all I want to know. Where can we go from here? What can we do?" Kurt asked.

"I've found that at this point, sometimes it's beneficial for a couple to go out, whether it be to dinner or a movie or just some form of entertainment. See if anything is still there," Marie advised. "Is that something you think you can do?"

Nodding, Kurt spoke. "I think so. I can try at least. What's the worst that can happen? Maybe be we could go to the store," Kurt said, a glint in his eyes.

Dr. Smith laughed. "It's good that you at least give it a try. Let him woo you Kurt," Dr. Smith said, standing. "Also, I have a colleague that deals with anger and unhealthy fixations. Might help with the cart obsession."

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Kurt sat on the stairs, waiting for the telltale sign on Blaine's car. Part of him was anxious, almost nervous to approach Blaine about the idea of a date. He wasn't naïve, he knew Dr. Smith had probably pitched the idea to Blaine first, interested in gauging the plausibility of such an idea. Nevertheless, Kurt understood that nothing could be fixed unless he took a step forward.

The quiet hum of a car pulling into the driveway grabbed Kurt's attention. Rising from his seat, he moved towards the door, opening it before Blaine could knock. Blaine jumped a little, surprised by the sudden appearance of his husband. Kurt offered a small smile, a sign of peace. Keenan was propped against Blaine's leg, barely able to keep his eyes open.

Leaning down, Kurt asked Keenan about his afternoon. "Did you have fun buddy?"

Keenan's face lit up, drowsiness still evident, but a gleam in his eyes. "It was so awesome daddy. The Tigers won and dad bought me five hot dogs -" Kurt's eyes snapped to Blaine, giving him a scowl "and he bought me a baseball," Keenan said, managing to get the sentence out in one breathe.

Kurt laughed. "Wow, sounds like you guys had quite the adventure," he said. Blaine smiled down at their son and nodded his head, a tender look in his eyes.

"We had lots of fun. But dad missed you daddy. I could tell! Whenever I mentioned you he got a frown. Frowns are bad, daddy," Keenan said, yawning. Blaine refused to make eye contact and Kurt's face colored. "I'm tired daddy," Keenan said, and then turned to his other dad. "Will you tuck me in? And tell me a story? You tell the best stories."

Blaine looked at Kurt and hesitated for a moment. His face was tense, hopeful, but tense. Even Kurt's heart softened a little. Nodding, he silently gave his husband permission. Blaine's face broke out into a huge smile. Reaching down, he grabbed his son's hand and led him up the stairs.

Kurt watched as they climbed the stairs, an ache that had slowly become familiar blossoming in his chest. He walked to his kitchen and turned the kettle on, listening to the quiet shuffles of feet on the second floor. He waited for the water boil before making two cups of tea, preparing Blaine's the way he liked it…with slightly more sugar than normal (five spoons instead of one wasn't that big of a difference, was it?).

He could hear Blaine come down the stairs, and could picture his confused face. It was a couple minutes before he wondered into the kitchen. Blaine wore a confused look at first, but that soon melted into a another hopeful look once Kurt nodded towards a seat at the counter. Blaine slowly sat down, reaching for the cup that Kurt had placed in front of him. Kurt smirked a little when Blaine's face pinched a little after his first sip, but was impressed that Blaine managed to neutralize his expression quickly.

Kurt remained standing. "So, manipulating our child into pleading your case. Smart, even for you," Kurt drawled sarcastically. Blaine immediately went to protest the accusation, but Kurt held up his hand. "I'm just kidding Blaine."

Blaine's form relaxed. Taking another sip of his "sweet" tea, he regarded his husband. "How was your lunch?"

"Good. Nice actually, to reconnect with an old friend," Kurt said.

"Am I ever going to be let in on the mystery? I can keep a secret," Blaine said, venturing into flirtatious territory.

"Oh sweetie, you wouldn't be living in apartment three miles away right now if you could keep a secret," Kurt said in a sing-song voice.

Blaine winced. "Ouch. I deserved that one," he admitted.

"Oh yeah you did," Kurt responded. "I had an appointment with Dr. Smith today." Blaine straightened in his seat. "She told me that maybe we should go out. Test the waters," Kurt said. Blaine tried to keep an innocent expression. "Don't play dumb. I know you knew this was coming," Kurt said.

Kurt reached over and grabbed Blaine's cup of tea as he reached for it. Turning, he dumped the contents into the sink, adding the contents of his cup as well. He walked around the counter, grabbed Blaine and began to lead him to the door. He talked as they walked. "So this is how it's going to go down. You're going to pick me up next Saturday. We will go to dinner, no dancing, no movies, just dinner. No Italian, extra points for Mexican. You will be here at seven sharp. You will have me home by midnight. There will be no sleepovers. Nod your head once if you understand," Kurt said as they reached the door. Blaine nodded.

"Understand this is in no way a reconciliation, a sign of forgiveness or a white flag. This is dinner. We will be discussing Keenan, financial things, idle chit-chat. Got it? Nod your head again," Kurt continued. Once again, Blaine nodded.

Pushing Blaine out the door, Kurt gave his husband a wave before he shut the door in his face. Locking it, he headed for the stairs, intent on taking a well deserved sleep.


	9. Chapter 9

"How the hell did I get roped into this? I love Keenan, but I love my nights off more," Santana asked Kurt as she laid on his bed, watching him get ready for his dinner date.

"You owe me for covering your shift of bus duty," Kurt said as he examined two shirts, torn between which seemed less inviting.

"I've never gotten the bus duty thing. I don't care how they get there or how they leave for that matter. I'm only responsible for them once they're in my class," Santana retorted, rising from her spot on Kurt's bed.

"I'm so going to nominate you for teacher of the year," Kurt said sarcastically, adding the finishing touches to his outfit.

Santana huffed and grabbed the bottle of wine she had brought with her, intent on refilling Kurt's glass. "Why did you even agree to dinner with this douche bag again? I thought we hated him," Santana, filling her friend's glass to the rim.

"Because it is the mature thing to do," Kurt shot back, shaking his head at the glass Santana tried to push into his hand.

"The mature thing to do is to keep your dick in your pants … unless you get an offer from Hugh Jackman. That is the only case in which cheating is acceptable," Santana said, forcefully shoving the glass into his hand. "Drink up Kurt.:

"I don't want to be drunk for this," Kurt responded, once again pushing the offered drink away.

The sound of the doorbell alerted Kurt and Santana to Blaine's presence. Kurt grabbed his light jacket and began to make his way towards the door. Santana was right behind.

"Drink it! Take the edge off, you're going to spend the night with your cockwhore husband," Santana said, relentless in her task. "Shit, drink up at the restaurant too!"

Kurt regarded her for a second before taking the offered glass and gulping it down. Santana only smiled in return. Waltzing past Kurt, she opened the door and gave Blaine a cold glare. Blaine waved and greeted her.

"Hello whore," she said, voice full of ice. "Have him home by midnight. No funny business. Precautionary of course, need to see your STD panel and all. Heard you're quite active," Santana said, her signature bitch-face on.

Kurt shook his head and grabbed the stunned Blaine's arm, dragging him to the car. Waving over his shoulder, Kurt told Santana he would see her later.

~(*)~(*)~(*)~(*)~(*)~(*)~(*)~(*)~

Thirty minutes later and the couple was seated at a table in a new Mexican restaurant. Satisfied that his demands had been met thus far, Kurt lost some of his hostile attitude, opting to mellow out. Santana's advice still rung through his head, and he dutifully began consuming his favorite drink: a martini.

When their waiter had asked to take their orders, a drink refill had been the first thing out of Kurt's mouth.

Blaine had smirked at Kurt's obvious journey to the land of the inebriated.

"I get to hang with tipsy? Looks like it's my lucky night," Blaine said, attempting to formulate a joke.

"The only thing you're getting tonight is a humongous bill," Kurt said. Facing the waiter, he pointed down at his martini. "These. Keep em' coming," he said, lazily flinging his finger towards the drink.

"Ah so we're getting smashed tonight I take it," Blaine said, good-naturedly, trying to lighten the tense atmosphere.

Kurt snorted and shook his head. "Um, we're not getting smashed," he said, flinging his finger between the two of them before pointing it at himself. "I, on the other hand, don't have to work tomorrow and plan on getting hammered."

Blaine gave a soft laugh. "And why can't I get hammered?" he asked, attempting to flirt.

Kurt knew what he was about say was immature, and that it truly was below him, but he couldn't resist. "Two reasons my dearly beloved. One," Kurt began, holding up his finger to emphasize his point, "you're the designated driver tonight. Two, you've done your hammering, haven't you. Big old tool named Matt hammered you if memory serves," Kurt said, taking another sip of his drink, tipping it upside down to get every last drop.

Blaine sat silently, unsure of his husband's drinking and still unused to his snark being directed at him. "So I take it you're going to spend the evening taking shots at me," Blaine finally said, holding his hands up in a non-threatening gesture once Kurt leveled a glare at him. "Not that I'm complaining, I am more than happy to sit here and take it, as long as you're here with me," Blaine said, giving Kurt a sincere look.

Kurt squinted his eyes at him, confused. "You're more than 'happy to sit here and take'? Bet you've heard that a time or two, haven't ya," Kurt shot back.

"Yes, I am. Like I said Kurt, I'm thankful to be here with you. I probably deserve everything you shoot at me, and because of that I'm not going to be offended by whatever you come up with," Blaine said earnestly.

Kurt scrunched his face up at that. "Well that just takes all of the fun out of it, doesn't it?" he said. "Fine. I will be mature. I'm an adult. You're an adult…er-er," Kurt said, flashing sly smile at his joke. Blaine just shook his head, taking the insult like he said he would.

~(*)~(*)~(*)~(*)~(*)~(*)~(*)~(*)~

Dinner passed between the two men rather quietly. Visitation schedules were discussed, monthly finances were budgeted. Very little personal interaction was exchanged between the two men at first, both Blaine and Kurt working with business-minded attitudes.

The topics of conversation slowly became more personal, the men discussing things about their days and work. It wasn't long until light giggles were escaping their mouths, Blaine from humor and Kurt's from the buzz of alcohol he had consumed earlier.

The piece of news that threw Blaine the most was Kurt's new colleague: his old high school friend. Blaine had been disbelieving at first, but once he realized Kurt was actually very serious, Blaine himself became serious. Kurt found his behavior odd, understanding escaping him as he slowly watched his husband's face became tight and his voice heavier.

"So you're working with Wes now?" Blaine questioned, his voice taking on an emotionless tone.

"Yeah, ended up being a gym teacher. Who would've thought?" Kurt responded, picking at his dessert, watching his husband's every move.

Blaine shrugged his shoulders and looked down at his plate, pushing around pieces of cheesecake. Kurt had seen that look. He had seen it for a month. Blaine was nervous, nervous that something might come out.

"So why did you, him and David fall out of contact?" Kurt questioned, doing his best to remain inconspicuous about his desire to know what had gone on so many years ago.

"I'm not really sure," Blaine said, unable to make eye-contact. "I think we just grew up and parted ways. Can't say that I mind too much," Blaine said, finally returning Kurt's stare.

Nodding, Kurt picked up his wine glass and took a sip. "And why is that?" he questioned.

"Wes had a pretty big crush on you back when we were kids," Blaine said, face completely serious.

Kurt choked on his drink. "Wes? Perpetual stick up his ass Wes? You're full of shit," Kurt said, incredulous.

Blaine nodded his head. "Yeah, one and the same. He had it bad for you. All repressed and stuff. That's why I wasn't so sad to see him go," Blaine admitted.

Kurt sat in shock, unable to process what he just been told. In the recent weeks that Wes had been back in his life, Kurt couldn't recall a time when things seemed even remotely romantic or affectionate. Wes had approached Kurt like any one would approach an old friend: excited and kind. Looking back, there may have been a touch that lingered too long, but nothing too out of the ordinary.

"What's it like working with him," Blaine asked, doing his best to not seem so interested.

"Not bad at all. He fits in well with the group. Apparently really well. Looks like poor Quinn is the only straight one," Kurt said thoughtfully, before adding, "except that one time in college. Why? Does that bother you? Him working with me?" Kurt asked.

Blaine shook his head pursed his lips. "Not like I have a right to be mad about it, do I?" Blaine asked.

"No, you really don't," Kurt responded, leaning back in his chair, pushing the remains of his cake from him. Blaine gave a tight smile, his face troubled. "Nothing would happen Blaine," Kurt said, making sure his eyes never strayed from Blaine's.

"I understand that we're kind of stuck in this limbo while we work on our marriage, and that it is frustrating, but as long as we're together, even like this, there won't be anyone else," Kurt said, folding his hands in his lap.

"You don't even owe me that," Blaine said softly, putting his hands on the table, looking down. "I messed up bad, didn't I Kurt?"

Something clicked inside of Kurt, something that long laid dormant. Reaching across the table, Kurt threaded his fingers through those of his husband. "You did," he whispered, the background of the restaurant fading. "And you're right, I don't owe you that. I owe myself that."

"But you have to understand something Blaine. I'm willing to see this through, the counseling, our family. I don't know where we're going, or where we're going to end up. I can't promise that I will be ready to jump back in head first, or that I'll ever be able to jump back in," Kurt said. Blaine nodded tightly, understanding blooming across his face, albeit the idea pained Blaine.

"Thank you for trying, Kurt," Blaine said. "I swear to God, there will never be anyone else. I faltered, and I was so stupid for it, but I swear … there will be no one else, ever."

Kurt sat stoically for a second. "If there ever is Blaine, we're done. No counseling, no talking, just done. Do you get that?" Kurt asked.

"I do. I get it," Blaine responded, looking directly into Kurt's eyes, his voice unwavering.

~(*)~(*)~(*)~(*)~(*)~(*)~(*)~(*)~

The ride home was quiet. Neither man talked, choosing to remain silent for the duration of the ride. As they pulled into the drive way things became awkward. Blaine exited the car, hoping to open Kurt's door, but Kurt beat him to the task.

The duo walked into the foyer of the house and listened for any sound that would indicate whether Keenan, or Santana for that matter, were awake.

Sighing, Kurt began the process of saying goodnight. "Thanks for this. I'm glad we did this," Kurt said.

Blaine smiled. "Me too," he said, his eyes looking around for something. Disappointment clouded his features. "Keenan already in bed I take it?" he forlornly asked.

Kurt nodded, watching the myriad of emotions pass over Blaine's face. "You know, he really misses his dad," Kurt admitted softly.

"I miss him too, so much. And you," Blaine said, eyes watering.

Blaine took a shuddering breathe and Kurt couldn't bring himself to feel anything but pity in that moment. The man before him was broken, and despite everything that had transpired, Kurt couldn't ignore. Reaching over, he wrapped his arm around Blaine's shoulder and gave him a smile.

Blaine returned the smile and looked down. "I don't get it Kurt. I just don't get it," he said.

Kurt gave Blaine a questioning look, confused as to what the man was referring.

Blaine looked at him tenderly. "You're so soft and sweet and amazing . . . I don't get why you didn't just say that we are over. I don't get what motivated you to agree to work on us," he said.

Kurt stood there, grasping for an answer. He been asked this before, by Marie and Santana and recently even Wes. Why? Kurt knew, it was a knowledge centered in his soul, in his being. There were no words to describe it, no way to elaborate. Grabbing Blaine's hand, he led him to the staircase.

"Remember when Keenan decided he was going to sled down the stairs on a pillow," Kurt asked, taking in Blaine's nod. "He broke his arm and chipped a baby tooth. I remember that I freaked out, but you picked him and carried him to the car. He was so scared. I was scared. But you never let him go.

Kurt pulled him towards the hallway and pointed to a painting. "I love this. Remember when we got it? Chicago, right after Pride. You managed to outbid everyone at that auction and surprised me with this as a wedding gift. It hung it our first house, and we made love right under it when we hung it here."

Kurt turned from the painting and walked into the kitchen. Blaine followed, his heart feeling light. "Every year we make those stupid gingerbread cookies because Keenan loves them. I hate it, and avoid it all costs. But every year you're right there, making those damn cookies."

Kurt turned and faced Blaine. "That's why I'm doing this Blaine. That's why I want to forgive you with every fiber of my being. We built a life together. We built a home. And to me that's something worth fighting for," Kurt said.

Blaine looked deeply into Kurt's eyes and moved slowly. Kurt's gut seized up, screaming at him to turn his head, to do something. Once their lips connected Kurt came to his senses. He let Blaine give him a chaste kiss, not responding, deliberately trying not to give him false hope.

He couldn't help the butterflies that filled his stomach when the man pulled away. Blaine's face was radiant, a look that Kurt hadn't seen since their days in the halls of McKinley or Dalton.

Kurt could hear the shuffle of feet upstairs, indicating that Santana or Keenan were on their way down the stairs. Not wanting Blaine to run into either of him, he quickly escorted him to the door. Blaine thanked him for the evening. Before he left, Kurt said he would call him to set something up soon, for them and for Keenan. Closing the door, he leaned against it, trying to calm his racing heart.

The sound of a throat being cleared pulled him from his thoughts. Moving towards the sound, he found Santana leaning against the railing of the staircase, looking down at Kurt with pity.

"Oh baby doll, what the hell was that," she asked, glaring.

Kurt laughed without humor. "That, my dear friend, was the first step in a long process," Kurt said.

Santana walked over and wrapped her arms around Kurt. "Are you okay," she asked.

Kurt just looked at her, no words coming from his mouth. "No, I'm not. But I think I will be," he finally answered.

~(*)~(*)~(*)~(*)~(*)~(*)~(*)~(*)~

The weekend passed and Kurt steeled himself for the week ahead. Although he had planned a group session with Blaine and Dr. Smith, they had to reschedule because the good doctor had a family emergency. Blaine had become nervous that Kurt would back out, but he reassured his husband that they would have their session.

Once Monday rolled around, Kurt found himself immersed in paperwork, attempting to get as much done as possible to downsize on the end of the semester crunch that would be coming soon. It was this scene in which Wes found Kurt.

Kurt had been sitting at his desk, unaware of the world, until he felt the someone's eyes upon him. Turning towards the door, he was met with the sight of Wes standing there, smiling.

"Hey, what brings you to my neck of the woods," Kurt asked, stretching his arms while he leaned back in his chair, yawning deeply.

"Oh, got tired of being cooped up in the gym. Needed some fresh air," Wes answered, grabbing a chair and sitting it in front of Kurt's desk. "Plus I was just dying to know how your dinner went," Wes said, his smile remaining.

Kurt studied Wes for a moment. No jealousy was detectable, and Kurt seriously doubted Blaine's claim, but he couldn't help but be curious. He had always found the older man to be attractive, not his usual type, granted he had only been with one person.

"It was good. Nice. Cleared the air a little," Kurt said.

Wes nodded, a comfortable silence developing between the two colleagues. Kurt couldn't contain his curiosity any longer and finally delved into the topic that had been irking him.

"What happened between you and David and Blaine?" Kurt said.

Wes's face darkened for a minute. The man sat back in his chair, his eyes glued to Kurt's own orbs. Seeming to deliberate with himself, he appeared to come to a decision. "It's a long story," he said.

Kurt offered a sympathetic smile. "I happen to have a free period," Kurt said.


	10. Chapter 10

Kurt sat across from Wes, excited to finally hear why Wes had severed contact with Blaine and David years ago.

"Well, I'm waiting here," Kurt said, offering his impish smile.

Wes sighed and settled further into his seat, shrugging his shoulders as if he was preparing to run a marathon. Taking one more deep breath, he opened his mouth and began his tale.

"I was dating a girl named Amieko. She was a Japanese foreign exchange student. We met in Mock debate and from the moment our eyes met, we had a connection. She made me feel light-headed and my chest tight. A good kind of tight, not a spent-too-many-late-nights-eating-McDonalds tight, but … the kind of tight you feel when you're looking at something truly marvelous," Wes said, staring at something that wasn't quite there.

Kurt smiled softly and nodded, understanding where his friend was coming from. He had felt those things when he first met Blaine. He still felt those things. "What happened to Amieko?" Kurt asked.

Wes's face fell and he looked away from Kurt. "I'm not sure this is the best story to be telling you right now Kurt. I don't want to cause you any more trouble."

Puzzled, Kurt responded. "How could your fallout with Blaine and David affect me? What does Amieko have to do with them anyhow?" he asked.

"Believe it or not, me and Blaine and David and you and Matt and Amieko … in some way we're all in the same boat, or were, at one point," Wes said, finally meeting Kurt's eyes.

Kurt felt as if the air had been knocked out of him. There was only one way Wes's words could be taken. "If you tell me that Blaine slept with Amieko, I will not be held responsible for my actions," Kurt said menacingly.

Wes's face flushed and he immediately tried to remedy his mistake. "God no, Kurt. Blaine with a woman. Never has happened or will happen," Wes said hastily.

Kurt calmed down, images of shopping carts and blonde twinks and asian sluts leaving his mind. "Then how are they connected?"

"Ameiko and I became serious, we even talked about marriage as soon as we graduated. But at some point in our senior year, she started to act weird. She would hide things, lie about everything. So one day I followed her … to David's house," Wes said, pausing for moment, trying to refocus his thoughts.

Kurt felt stomach drop to his knees, his mind warring with Wes's words about Blaine and the similarities between their situations. "You got to finish this story Wes, you're killing me here," Kurt said uneasily.

"I followed her to David's house and found her there with David. They had been hooking up for months. I was heartbroken and devastated. I went to Blaine and found out he had known. He tried to defend himself, claiming he didn't want to be involved and didn't want to get between me and David and Ameiko," Wes said, his eyes never straying from Kurt's.

Kurt's brain shut down. He had no idea how to respond or process the information that had just fallen into his lap. He reached across the table and patted Wes's hand. Slinking back into his seat. Kurt attempted to piece together how this revelation might affect his view of Blaine.

Nothing came to mind, except the confusion and heartache that Kurt had sadly become accustomed to.

~(*)~(*)~(*)~(*)~(*)~(*)~(*)~(*)~

"And Blaine knew about the whole thing. Seriously Quinn, Wes still looks wrecked when he talks about it. I'm having a freaking overload right now," Kurt barked into his blue-tooth as drove the quiet streets of his neighborhood.

"How are you feeling right now," his blonde friend asked, she being in her own car on her way to her own home.

"I don't know. David wasn't exactly on the Christmas card list, he certainly is on my shit list right now," Kurt responded.

"I meant about Blaine, Kurty," Quinn responded. "And hurry up, I just pulled up to my house and Sam is mowing the lawn and he is not wearing a shirt."

"Thank you for your support, it truly is astounding," Kurt muttered sarcastically. "I really don't know how to feel with Blaine. Ever since he took me out to dinner, things are getting less awkward. In no way am I ready for him to move back into the house. And what happened with Wes was such a long time ago, long before we got married. It's just so confusing Quinn."

"Hang in there Kurt. You just need to give yourself some time to process this. I wouldn't tell him that you know right now, figure out how you feel about it first," Quinn advised, answering Kurt's silent question.

Kurt bid his friend goodbye as he pulled onto his street, swerving a little when he noticed an unmistakable car in his driveway. Parking alongside it, he rushed into his house to be greeted with the sight of Blaine playing Keenan.

"Uh, did we have plans or something," Kurt asked, out of breath, surveying the kitchen. On the counter sat a bag of food with a heavenly smell wafting from it.

"Hey, I got take out from that place we both like, over on State Street. Extra spicy egg rolls, just for you," Blaine said, sending a wink his way. The younger man turned his back and began canvassing the kitchen island with Chinese food as rose from his spot on the floor.

"Um, okay. Where is the babysitter? Like seriously?" Kurt asked.

"I got here and let her go home early. I bought some food and thought we could spend the night in," Blaine answered. "Is that okay with you?"

Kurt paused for a minute and took in Blaine's hopeful look and Keenan's excited face. Swallowing, Kurt nodded.

~(*)~(*)~(*)~(*)~(*)~(*)~(*)~(*)~

An hour later both men were propped against the couch in their living room. Keenan was in front of them, alternating between eating and playing with the toys sprawled across the floor.

"You want a bite of my egg roll," Blaine asked, leaning forward and dropping a chaste kiss on Kurt's lips. Drawing back, he gauged his husband's reaction. "Is this okay," he asked.

Kurt nodded slightly, still hesitant to jump into anything. Blaine made a move to dive in for another kiss but Kurt shoveled a spoon full of rice into his mouth, offering his husband an awkward smile.

Blaine laughed at Kurt's antics and settled back against the couch, watching Keenan play with some of his toys, the young boy's dinner pushed off to the side.

"I'm sorry If I crossed a line. I was thinking about you guys and I couldn't resist," Blaine said as they both watched Keenan.

"It was a nice surprise. In the future though, let's keep surprises like this to a minimum okay," Kurt said, the look on Wes's facing popping into his mind. Blaine looked over at him and nodded, a soft sincere smile across his face. Kurt returned it and settled against the couch, joining Blaine in watching their son play.


	11. Chapter 11

The waiting rooms of therapists' offices are like comedic gold, pure and simple.

Glancing around the office that Dr. Smith shared with six other mental health professionals, Kurt couldn't help but play his new favorite game: guess the crazy.

To his right a young girl, maybe sixteen or seventeen, sat in the cliché Catholic school girl uniform. Kurt's diagnosis: whore with daddy issues. Evidence: the way she stared at the much older man across from her and the way she flexed her legs every time she caught his eye. Kurt's recommendation: STD panel and a visit to the House of the Mother Mary Superior, those nuns could do wonders with this girl (to be fair, his position on whores had evolved to a much more negative aspect in recent months).

The man across from the young woman: kleptomaniac. Evidence: he was shoving the complimentary mints into his pockets covertly (or as covertly as person can be when shoving dozens of candies wrapped in the world's loudest plastic into his pocket). Kurt's recommendation: he should be forced to eat all of the mints in his pocket at one time.

Turning to his left, a young boy sat who was drawing pictures of what he assumed to be adults standing over a piranha pit. Shifting in his chair, Kurt decided he would rather not delve into Rosemary's baby's mind.

In spite of all his musings, Kurt couldn't quell the rising panic he felt at being in the waiting room. This would be his first appointment with the good doctor since he had learned how weak-minded his husband had been almost a decade prior. He had canceled two appointments since then, one solo and one joint, and Blaine had become wary as to the reason.

He had yet to confront Blaine with his newfound knowledge, he himself was still trying to process what he had learned. Sighing, he rose from his seat and entered Dr. Smith's office when prompted.

He offered the woman a greeting and gracefully took a seat, fielding Marie's questions about how work and his life had been. He had hoped that if he played his cards right, he might have been able to infuse the whole thirty minute session with small talk. His hopes were dashed when Dr. Smith confronted him head on.

"So Kurt, what's bothering you," she asked, her eyes studying his every move.

Kurt laughed, the fakeness ringing in his ears, before he responded. "The stock market. Ralph Lauren's fall line was atrocious. Bristol Palin's television show was renewed for an eighth season," Kurt said, his trademark smirk in place.

"I mean really bothering you, although I can see how Bristol Palin's maintained media presence would be disconcerting," Marie said. "Blaine has said that he is afraid you're pulling away from our time here, that you're pulling away from him."

"Has he now," Kurt questioned, unsure of how to feel at that. "I'm honestly trying, you know. I really am."

"I don't doubt that. Part of my approach is to act as a neutral mediator between the two of you. Blaine has asked me to discuss with you how you're dealing with things. I understand you have had a couple of dates."

"Yeah, we've had a couple of dates. Sometimes we go out to eat, sometimes we stay in and I make us something. We've gone to the occasional movie," Kurt answered. "I got him to sit through Fatal Attraction, which I counted as a win."

"Ah, a new approach to therapy," Marie said, waiting for Kurt to continue.

Annoyed with the silence, Kurt spoke up. "What do you want from me today," Kurt questioned.

"I want you honestly answer me when I ask how you are doing these days," Maries responded.

Kurt took a deep breathe before he answered. "Not good Dr. Smith, not good. Blaine and I are not okay. I don't know whether or now we will ever be okay. I feel like there is this dark cloud that is hanging over my head constantly. And I learned some quite frankly shocking but not so shocking news about Blaine."

"To what news are you referring," Marie questions, her face confused as she fingered through her notes.

Shaking his head, Kurt looked out the window, his eyes resting on a bird perched on a branch outside. "You won't find it in your notes, Dr. Smith. And no, I don't want to talk about it. We're almost out of time, by the way," Kurt said.

Dr. Smith looked towards her desk clock and nodded. "You're right. But we do have five minutes lefts, and there is one more issue that I have been meaning to discuss with you."

Kurt's face remained neutral, but he indicated that he was listening.

"Blaine has mentioned that you had a moment not too long ago where you guys were verging on having intimate relations, but you weren't ready. What are your thoughts," Dr. Smith said

"Well, anyone who refers to it as intimate relations isn't getting their chimney swept often if you catch my drift, doc," Kurt said, but continued when Dr. Smith was not amused. "Yeah, we had a moment a while ago. It was no where near intimate-land, my guess is that Blaine wanted it to head in that direction. I didn't though."

"Are you ready to have relations with him again," Dr. Smith asked.

Kurt paused for a minute, debating whether he should use profanity or honesty to answer the question. He chose the latter.

"It's like there is a stain on his skin and only I can see it. Where another man touched him … kissed him. It drives me crazy to know that someone got to experience such an intimate part of Blaine, a part that I thought I would be the only one to ever know," Kurt said. He sighed and looked into Marie's eyes, mustering the courage to voice his thoughts.

"When you marry someone, on some level you want them to be everything for you, and you be everything for them. I wanted to be the person that meant everything, that owned every special moment. When I am with him, when I think about being intimate with him again, I'm afraid that there will always be this third person in our bed; there will always be a comparison between the two of me and his lover," Kurt finished.

"Your fears aren't unfounded Kurt. Blaine broke a significant part of your relationship: the trust you had with one another. The question at hand is whether or not you can rebuild that trust. Do you think that you might be ready to begin that process," Dr. Smith responded.

Kurt scoffed and shifted in his seat. "I'm getting pulled in a dozen different directions. The thought of trusting Blaine is honestly laughable. I'm immersed in this big ball of confusion and I don't see a way out. Just when I think I have evolved to a new level and might be ready to move on, someone or something throws a huge wrench in it and slaps me back to square one," he said.

Dr. Smith paused for a moment and chose her words carefully. "Could you elaborate on that," she finally asked.

Kurt sighed and looked towards his boots, once again attempting to sort his thoughts into some semblance of order.

"I don't know what Blaine I am dealing with anymore. I used to have this picture perfect image of Blaine from when we were younger, but now I know that even then he wasn't perfect. I have the man I married and built life with, who is so disconnected from any other image I have of him. I have the Blaine that hurt me so deep I can feel it in my bones," Kurt said.

"We often like to think of our partners as being perfect Kurt, and that's the word you used: perfect. I think you're trying to reconcile all the information that has been thrown your way recently and compact it into a black and white world. We don't live in a black and white world Kurt," Dr. Smith said.

"Bummer. Black and white are totally in this season," Kurt muttered, gazing out the window, feeling envy as he watched a bird take flight into the sky.


	12. Chapter 12

Kurt and Blaine continued to see Dr. Smith, and small improvements were made, but the entire time he couldn't help the nagging voice in the back of his mind, constantly poking at Kurt's newfound knowledge of how Blaine and Wes fell out of touch.

A few awkward dates had taken place since the revelation, but if Blaine had noticed he had yet to acknowledge. Despite working on their marriage and still actually being married, they had settled into a weird pattern in which both men had lives separate from one another, but still intertwined.

Today was an example of this. Both Blaine and Kurt had the day off, but had no plans whatsoever, except the exchange of hands of Keenan, who would be spending the day with his father.

"So where is the little munchkin today," Santana asked as she took a sip of her coffee.

"He is with his other daddy at Blaine's annual company carnival," Kurt responded, mirroring Santana's actions.

"Doesn't he like to go these things," Santana inquired.

"He loves them. It is my who cannot stand them. A bunch of stuffy lawyers running around a park with their kids and perfect spouses trying to show that despite their profession, they might actually have souls. They have tight smiles as they cart their families around, showing off to right the people, even though the entire time they are thinking about billable hours and whether or not their mistress can squeeze in a couple hours after the whole event," Kurt said sarcastically, pausing for a moment. "Huh, guess Blaine really does fit in at work."

Santana laughed. "Was Keenan excited for his day out with his dad?"

Kurt nodded. "He was more excited to see Isaac than he was to go with Blaine," he said.

Isaac was a bittersweet topic for Kurt. He was Keenan's best friend and one of the sweetest kids imaginable. He had thick glasses because his eyesight was terrible, but that coupled with Keenan's asthma and need for an inhaler helped the young children to recognize a kindred spirit in one another. Isaac also had the misfortune of being David's son.

"Ah, have you talked Isaac's good old dad since you last saw him," Santana asked.

"That's why you're here today my dear friend. To answer your question, no, I have not had any contact with David since we ran into each other last. But as Blaine has to run straight to court after the carnival, David will be dropping Keenan off. And I need someone to make sure Keenan isn't caught in any cross-fire." Kurt said.

"No problem Thelma, you know I got your back," Santana said.

The sound of car doors drew both of their attention, and caused both rise and head towards the front door. "I'm going to hold you to that Louise," Kurt said.

Kurt opened the door to be assaulted by Keenan, carrying a bag with the law firm's logo on it, filled to the brim with prizes and gifts. He started babbling but Kurt could pay him no attention, instead focused upon the man he had once called his friend, staring intently at him. He went to close the door but was stopped by David's voice.

"Kurt," David questioned. "Can we talk?" Kurt froze, prepared to dismiss the man. He looked towards the driveway and saw Isaac in the backseat, looking around, waving when he saw Kurt. Sighing, he nodded and turned towards Santana.

"I'll be fine, will you take care of him," Kurt told Santana as she tapped his shoulder, trying to give him her silent support. She nodded and led Keenan further into the house.

"Will you please just talk to me Kurt. Please, tell me why you're so angry with me," David asked.

"It really comes down to a simple truth David: you enabled the affair. By keeping quiet and ignoring what was in front of your face, you shit on our friendship and basically gave it a big old middle finger," Kurt said, leaning against the door, his face resolute.

"Please understand where I am coming from Kurt. I was damned if I told you and I was damned if I didn't. I thought that the affair would end and Blaine would move on, everything he ever said about Matt indicated that it wasn't serious. I did what I thought was best for everyone," David plead, bending his knees .

"No David, you did what you thought was best for you," Kurt said, his eyes steely.

David shook his head and opened his mouth to respond, but Kurt cut him off. "And if the affair had ended … how could you have come to my home and looked me in the eye, how could you have interacted with my child knowing the sins of his father? Don't you dare say you did what you thought was best for everyone. You thought of yourself. Plain and simple."

David's shoulders slumped. "Please forgive me Kurt. Our families are friends, our children our friends."

Kurt laughed, unable to retain his chilly demeanor. "Friends? You're no friend of mine. A friend would have told me what was happening. A friend would have thought of me and my child."

"Please Kurt, don't say things like that. Me and Blaine and you -" David started, but was again cut off.

"Maybe you and Blaine are friends, maybe you and he can still talk and hang out and chill, but you and I … you might as well be a stranger on the street to me," Kurt sneered.

Defeated, David let a deep breathe loose and nodded. "If that's what you want, I can respect that," he said and turned to look back at his car, Isaac innocently staring at the two men. Turning back to Kurt, his face was filled with worry.

"I understand if you don't want to see me. In all honesty, I wouldn't want to see me either. But please don't keep Isaac and Keenan apart. Keenan is Isaac's world," David said, his emotion painted across his face.

Kurt looked from David's sorrowful eyes and looked towards Isaac. His soulful eyes hit Kurt like a train and he could feel his resolve face. Isaac smiled and waved excitedly, in only a way a five year old could muster. Smiling warmly, Kurt returned the gesture and looked back into his house, his eyes immediately seeking out Keenan.

His son sat in the main entryway, showing Santana his balloon and babbling a mile a minute. Sensing he was being watched, Keenan met his father's eyes and, in the same innocent way that Isaac had, waved and smiled. Again, Kurt returned the gesture and addressed David.

"I don't want you in my home. I don't want you in my life. I don't relish the thought of you around my child. It's funny, I don't get to have a lot of the things I want nowadays," Kurt said, causing David's shoulders to slump even further. "But I'm a parent and that goes with the territory."

Casting one more look at Isaac, Kurt delivered his decision. "Isaac will always be welcome here. He is a sweet kid and loves Keenan, and Keenan loves him. I wouldn't imagine punishing them by keeping them apart. They had no part in what has happened," Kurt said.

David allowed a hesitant smile to make its way onto his face. "Thank you Kurt. Thank you so much," David said.

Kurt nodded and pushed himself from the door frame. "Drop Isaac off on Friday for a sleepover. I know its your anniversary and Blaine will be swamped with that deposition, so he is more than welcome to say here."

David's smile grew larger, but retained its edge of nervousness. "Thank you, that's really kind," he said, slowly walking towards his car. He turned and found Kurt still standing in the same place, his face impassive as ever. "I truly am sorry," he said.

Kurt gave him a once over, mustering his better-than-you look before responding. "You don't owe me an apology," Kurt said. Without looking, he pointed behind him in the direction of Keenan. "In fifteen years, when he is old enough to understand, try apologizing him."

David remained silent while Kurt headed back into his house. "See Isaac on Friday. Give Adele my best," Kurt called over his shoulder, shutting the door, musing on how closing the door seemed so much complicated and symbolic that it really was.

Walking towards Keenan and Santana, he dropped to his knees and examined the bag that his son had brought from the company carnival.

Keenan's face lit up even more if possible and held up an adorable stuffed penguin. "Look daddy, I won this!" Keenan said, his excitement lacing his voice.

Laughing, Kurt wrapped Keenan in his arms and gave him a tight squeeze, ignoring the laughter and shrieks that erupted from the child. "I'm proud of you buddy. Guess what, Isaac gets to spend the night on Friday," Kurt said, reveling in his son's renewed laughter. Kurt couldn't help but hug him a little tighter.

Santana watched father and son and couldn't help but laughing with the duo. Catching Kurt's eye, she mouthed 'I'm proud of you' as she pointed at him. Shooting her a smile filled with warmth, Kurt continued hugging his son.


End file.
